The Glory
by KatZenSPN
Summary: Dawn felt a hand around her wrist and almost screamed. But when she looked up, it wasn't Glory's face she saw. The man grinned at her. "Hello," he said, "I'm the Doctor. Run!" And she did. Set after BtVS "Tough Love", DW following Canary Wharf.
1. Chapter 1

The young monk shivered and looked around himself, as though expecting attack. His elders were consumed with the business of spell casting, weaving words and energies into a tapestry, a cloak to hide this thing. They said that if it fell into the wrong hands, it would bring about the end of the world.

Brother Stephan did not always understand what was said around him. He just knew that since he had taken his vows, his eyes had been opened to a world he'd never thought possible. That he still wished was not possible. Demons and demigods and vampires...stuff of children's stories. And adults' wars. He knew that his order had a role to play and that he, therefore, had a role to play. Without them, the world would be destroyed. They were the last...one of the last vanguards against the night.

"We have little time," murmured Brother Carolus, the order's Seer. "The Storm approaches." The sound of chanting increased, and Brother Stephan shuddered at the power that surrounded him. His hair stood on end. He knew that this spell existed at the ragged edge of reality and possibility, and that performing it was risking annihilation, much less completing it. But to leave the artifact vulnerable and unmasked was to _guarantee_ annihilation. For the universe and all of its inhabitants.

Brother Stephan shifted the grip of his sword in his sweaty hands. He was little use here, and he knew it - he was only allowed to be present due to the fact that he was young and relatively strong, and so could heft a sword with more agility than most of the other monks. Three other young monks completed a square with him, one posted at each of the cardinal directions. He risked a look behind him, and saw a human form coalescing in the circle that the elder monks had formed. It was almost done.

He did wonder why it had to be a child, though.

Suddenly there was such a burst of power that it sent Brother Stephan to his knees, supporting himself with his sword, his breath taken away. Turning, he saw a girl sit up - thin, gangly, with long brown hair and wide brown eyes. She looked at him for just a moment before the monks touched her forehead, all together, and she vanished. Sent into hiding, Brother Stephan knew. Somewhere safe. Somewhere away from _them_.

The brief silence was broken by a sound like gears grinding, like wind rushing through a void.

The four young monks raised their swords, while the elder monks spoke quietly among themselves. Brother Stephan watched, trembling, as something faded into existence in the corner of the room. A blue box. His blue box. He slid his foot back and whispered prayers, preparing his soul.

The box arrived.

The elder monks behind him collapsed. One made a horrible rattling sound as he did so. Brother Stephan did not look behind him, but he had to force his hands into stillness. Had he done that? Just by arriving?

The door opened, and out stepped a man. No. Not a man. But he looked like a man. Tall, thin, in a suit and long coat, rectangular glasses perched on his nose. He looked around the room, his eyes icy. When they fell on the elder monks, he scowled. "No," he growled. "No, no, no!"

He ran up to them, past Brother Stephan, who found himself paralyzed, and knew his three compatriots to be likewise immobile. The creature knelt by the bodies, some sort of glowing blue stick hovering over the body of Brother Carolus. "Cyanide," he hissed. "Of course. Couldn't let anyone capture them to find out where they put it. Too smart for that. Too paranoid." He paused. "Not that they were wrong. _Damn it_. Just a minute earlier..."

He turned and met Brother Stephan's eyes. Brother Stephan raised his sword, but it was a defensive gesture. He couldn't hurt this creature, not with a sword. He knew that. If he had come earlier, what had the elder monks thought they could do? He knew the answer. They expected him to cost the Ka Faraq Gatri a few moments' time wasted in killing him.

He barely noticed the creature moving before it was right in front of him. He sucked in a breath. "Don't be afraid," the Ka Faraq Gatri said. "I'm not going to hurt you. But it's extremely important that you tell me whatever you know about what they've done with the Key."

"I will die before betraying my order," Brother Stephan said in what he hoped was a defiant voice. The creature narrowed his eyes. Brother Stephan's knees went weak. But then, inexplicably, the creature's expression softened, and he looked sad...unutterably sad, filled with depths of grief that Brother Stephan would never, ever understand.

"I know," he said softly. "And I'm sorry about this." Before Brother Stephan could react, or flinch, or anything, the Ka Faraq Gatri placed his hands on either side of the monk's head, and slipped in.

It wasn't pain, not exactly. It was an invasion, but it was a gentle one. The Ka Faraq Gatri was moving quietly and expertly through his memories, hoping to grasp something that could help him find the Key. But he had underestimated the monks.

The creature left his mind and stared at him, his fingertips still against the monk's temples. "They left you completely in the dark," he said. "They've asked you to be prepared to give your life for something they told you nothing about. And you are. You are prepared."

"If my life is the cost of defending the universe, I pay it gladly," Brother Stephan said resolutely.

The Ka Faraq Gatri let his hands drop to his sides, and shook his head slowly. "Amazing," he whispered. "Every time I think I have you lot figured out. But you can't help me." He looked down once more at the crumpled bodies of the elder monks, and something like pain flashed across his face. "And neither can they, not anymore."

He turned away and walked back to his box. Brother Stephan stood, and then against all his better judgment, said, "Is that it?"

The creature turned and frowned. "What, did you want to fight? Because I'm no expert but I can tell you're rubbish with that sword," he said. Brother Stephan said nothing, and his face smoothed into an unreadable mask. "Ah. You expected me to kill you."

Brother Stephan continued to be silent.

The creature shook his head. "No, no no, Brother. I don't want to kill anybody. I was coming here to make sure a lot of people don't die. Now it's going to be harder. But it's not your fault." He paused, waiting for Brother Stephan to say something. When Brother Stephan could not find the words, he frowned again. "I really, really don't want a fight."

"I don't either," Brother Stephan said hurriedly. The Ka Faraq Gatri grinned at him, and slipped into his blue box, fading away to wherever it was he had come from.

Brother Stephan was left gripping his sword, confused and lost, but mostly...mostly relieved.

Brother Stephan lived for fifteen minutes after that. The Beast followed the Storm.


	2. Chapter 2

_Three things happened at what could, in fairness, be considered the same time._

_First, the being called Glory located the Key that she had been looking for in a public park in Sunnydale, California._

_Second, Rupert Giles and the vampire known as Spike discovered an unusual object in a graveyard._

_Third, a man in a pinstriped suit with red trainers grabbed a young girl by the wrist and said with a manic grin, "Hello, I'm the Doctor. Run!"_

_Time isn't as linear as we'd like to think: that is what the man in the pinstriped suit would say. Therefore the reader may forgive the fact that this narrative will begin with the second event._

Rupert Giles was not a man who was easily startled. He prided himself on his stoicism, and his vast experience with matters apocalyptic had rendered him difficult to alarm. But when he walked into the makeshift library that he had assembled in the Summers home to find Tara with ten books surrounding her on the floor, something twisted in his stomach. "Tara, dear, what are you looking at?"

Tara did not look up, but continued mumbling under her breath. Giles crouched down beside her, straining to make out the words. "..._Faraq Gatri_. He brings the darkness, Destroyer of Worlds. Coming now, coming quickly, coming for her, to keep locked the gates..."

Giles sat back up, and carefully pulled one of the books from the pile that Tara had accumulated. The twisting feeling in his stomach ramped up immediately as he saw the page that she had opened the book to. He put the book down and picked up another one, which was open to a similar illustration. A third. A fourth. He hefted the largest book, the _Recordum Prophetiae_.

The tome was hand-written centuries ago by monks, with delicate black lettering and breath-taking illuminations. But on this page...on this page, that Giles had never seen before, the lettering was not so precise. The illuminations were less illumination than sketches.

Giles was familiar, historically speaking, with the order of monks who had written the book. Anya, so she reported, was familiar with the seer who had made the prophecies. The seer was one of the most gifted of her time, or any time. Everything that the order had done was perfect and meticulous. But this page looked like it was written hurriedly, almost as though the writer was afraid of lingering on it. The illustration was not detailed, not even well-drawn. It showed the back of a man, or a humanoid male at any rate, wearing a long brown coat and what appeared to be Converse All-Star trainers. He was tall and lanky, with tousled hair. The illustration only showed a sliver of his face, caught in the middle of turning to look behind himself. But the expression on his face, even the little that Giles could see of it, made Giles understand why the artist had not stayed to capture a better image. He wanted to run, too.

"Oh, dear," he breathed, adjusting his glasses.

He placed the book down carefully, like a bomb he feared would explode. He looked at Tara, whose hands were hovering over the books while she rocked and murmured. Giles touched her head, and she began to cry quiet tears. "Can you feel him, Tara?" he asked, so softly. Tara nodded. Giles' throat tightened. "Is he close?"

Tara looked at him through the most lucid eyes Giles had seen from her in a great while. "There is no close, and there is no far with him," she said. "He knows, now. He is coming. He will arrive when he will."

"Who is he coming for, Tara?" Giles asked urgently. But he knew the answer. Before Tara turned away, before she began to cry again, he knew the answer.

"He sees her glow, sees her shimmer," Tara whispered, and Giles bowed his head. Yes. Why not? Everyone else wanted Dawn. But thinking of having to protect the child from two transdimensional beings of that kind of power - because from what he knew of the _Ka Faraq Gatri_, his power easily rivalled Glory's...he couldn't fathom it. He had to tell Buffy. But how? How could he break this to her? She was already overburdened with the worry of keeping Dawn safe from Glory.

Perhaps he could take some of the burden off of her. It wasn't a pleasant notion, but to save Buffy any more suffering, he'd try it.

He gathered the books up, piled them by the wall, and took Tara by the hands. "Let's get you to bed," he said gently, and she nodded, sniffling. "Don't worry about what you saw, Tara. We will take care of it."

Tara said nothing more as Giles ushered her upstairs, tucking her into her bed. When he was sure she was asleep, he turned off the lights and made his way out.

He walked into the library to pick up his coat and a crossbow, and his eyes fell on the pile of books he'd made. He hesitated, then pulled the smallest one out of the pile, tucking it in the large pocket of his coat. He might need it. To explain the situation...not for identification. If he found himself close enough to this creature to identify it based on these illustrations, he'd be dead soon enough to render it a moot point.

Armed with book and weapon, he left the Summers house and began to make his way to Spike's tomb. He didn't make it more than two blocks, however, before he ran into another person.

His crossbow was in his hands already when he heard the figure cry, "Woah! Cut the Rambo act there, Watcher, it's just me." He lowered the crossbow and looked with fevered eyes at Spike, who had his hands up.

He put away the crossbow and passed a hand over his brow. "Spike, I-I'm terribly sorry. I'm...on edge. I was coming to find you, actually."

Spike frowned. "Yeah? Funny. Cause I was coming to find you lot." He jerked his thumb back towards his tomb. "Weird thing just happened back on the homestead. Thought it might need a Slayer's eye to figure it out."

"What sort of weird thing?" Giles asked sharply.

Spike grinned. "Actually, you'll do. Walk and talk." The two men began to walk towards the graveyard as Spike continued. "Remember those blue police boxes they had in London back in the 60's? Police box, public call, all that?"

Giles felt suddenly ill. "Yes," he managed.

"Big one o' those, out of nowhere, just appeared in the graveyard," Spike said, his voice sounding curious. "Didn't even hear anything. Just all of a sudden, it's there."

"You heard _nothing_?" Giles pressed.

Spike frowned again. "Well, nothing that would have been someone hauling a great bloody police box into the graveyard," he clarified. He glanced at the Watcher. "Why?"

Giles sighed. "Let's continue to walk and talk," he said. "I...I'm afraid I have some troubling news. And I'm afraid that your police box is part of it." He cracked open the book he'd brought with him as they walked. He'd become accustomed to reading under very low light, so the veil of night did nothing to dampen the book's legibility for him. "Tara opened a number of books in the library to pages that talked about the same being," he said, "and she was talking as though she knew this thing were coming. It is called the _Ka Faraq Gatri_ in a lost language, which is said, in English, to translate as the Destroyer of Worlds."

Spike scoffed. "Sounds like typical demon grandstanding," he said. "I mean, come on, if _Angel_ could call himself the Scourge of Europe, this guy probably blew up a model of the solar system and named himself."

Giles shook his head. "I wish it were that simple," he said, "but this being appears throughout prophetic and historical texts since writing began. The details are few, but where he appears, so does chaos, destruction, and bloodshed. And what's worse...Tara said that he is coming for Dawn."

Spike faltered, then shook his head. "Tara's...I wouldn't say it in front of Red, but Tara's not exactly talking sense lately," he said sadly. "How do you know she's not just babbling?"

"I don't," Giles admitted. "But she was frightened. And if you've seen his box, then she's right about part of it, at least."

They arrived at the graveyard, and Giles exhaled slowly. It matched the illustrations. The Blue Box. He approached it and pulled at the door, but it didn't give.

"I tried, too," Spike said. "Couldn't budge it."

"If he's here," Giles said, "then we need to hide Dawn. Quickly." He fished his cell phone out of his pocket, and dialed Willow's number. Her sleepy voice began to answer, but Giles cut her off. "Willow, I need you to go into Dawn's room."

"Okay?" she said blearily, and Giles heard her footsteps as she walked down the hallway to Dawn's room. The creak of the door. An unexpected gasp from the witch. "Oh, my god."

"Willow - " Giles began, his heart racing.

"Giles, she's gone. Dawn's not here."


	3. Chapter 3

The Oncoming Storm leaned heavily on the console of his TARDIS, psychic paper in hand, waiting.

If you were to ask him what it was he was waiting for, he wouldn't have been able to say. Anything, perhaps. He was not a picky man. Any kind of distraction. Anything to fill his head with thoughts other than of her.

There was such silence in the TARDIS. It seemed even quieter than before, now that he was waiting, hoping, lingering. No cheerful prattling, bubbly laughter, keen listening. He felt the silence, aching in his chest. It filled the hole where she had lived. It hurt.

He glanced down at the psychic paper, and some of the weight left him when he saw that there were words on it now. _Thank you_, he thought to the universe. _Thank you._

Then he read it.

_Ka Faraq Gatri - Ka Faraq Gatri - Ka Faraq Gatri - Ka Faraq Gatri - Ka Faraq Gatri -_

He stared at it, his eyes hard, his body suddenly cold. Why would someone call for his help using that name? Who would know that name to call? Of all the names he'd ever been given, of all the titles he carried, why _that name_? Why now?

It didn't matter. Ultimately, it didn't matter. Someone needed his help. And he...he needed to help someone.

He put his hand on the console, and whispered to the only one who'd never left him: "Let's find them."

She hummed beneath his hand, comforting, mourning with him. He felt his eyes sting. "Not now, old girl. There's time later. The only thing we have is time." He glanced down at the paper, his stomach twisting.

When he looked up at the coordinates, he felt a shock. But he wasn't sure why. Ultimately, always, the TARDIS brought him exactly where he needed to go.

* * *

><p>Dawn sat in the park. Buffy would kill her until she died of it if she knew that Dawn had slipped out, but she had to. She was going to go nuts, trapped in that house, with all the whispering and the worrying and the grieving. And it was all her fault.<p>

No matter how many times _every single person_ told her it wasn't, yes it was. It was her fault. If it weren't for her, for her existence and what she was, nothing would have happened to Tara. She'd be okay. Glory wouldn't be here, ready to kill everyone that Dawn cared about. Things would be okay, if only Dawn weren't there.

At least out here, there was space. Air. It felt like there was no air to breathe at the house - like they were so shut in, like they had to seal themselves away from the world so much, to keep her safe, that all the air had already been breathed.

She wanted to go. Anywhere. Away. But Glory would just catch her, and then all the suffering Buffy and the others had gone through...it would all be for nothing. She couldn't do _that_, either. She was stuck in a sea of bad choices.

The cool wind brushed her hair aside, and she shivered, just a little. She should probably head home soon, little as she wanted that. But someone was bound to notice that she was gone. It wasn't like she could go an hour without somebody checking on her, just to make sure she hadn't spontaneously combusted or something.

Suddenly, her gut told her she'd waited too long.

She bolted up from the park bench but had no plans subsequent to that. Her heart was racing, but she knew she couldn't outrun Glory. Her feet felt heavy, and her breath was coming in short, uneven bursts. She felt like she was going to cry.

She felt a hand around her wrist and almost screamed. But when she looked up, it wasn't Glory's face she saw.

The man grinned at her. "Hello," he said, "I'm the Doctor. Run!"

And she did.

* * *

><p>Glory missed Dawn Summers by moments.<p>

She should have been enraged.

But as she watched the man in the coat whisking her Key away, all she could feel was fear.


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor knew there was something strange about the girl the moment he saw her. But he didn't have time to really overthink it, given the severity of the situation.

It was literally, absolutely, undeniably impossible that the creature he saw was here. She couldn't be. At no point could she have been. However, regardless of her impossibility, she was nonetheless there and about to attack the girl. So he did what he was best at: he grabbed a young woman and ran.

They ran - and she was good at running, too - all the way back to the cemetary where the TARDIS had landed, and he hurriedly unlocked the door and brought the girl in. Slamming the door behind them, he took a moment to catch his breath.

"Oh," he said, startled. "That's new."

She was pulling him, this girl. Something in his core sparked at her presence, now that the distractions were gone, now that the running was done. She was _electric_. He turned around slowly, warily.

She was staring at him, flushed from her run in the cold, flushed from her brush with death. She knew what almost happened, he was sure of it. She looked frightened. Of him in part, no doubt, but not only of him. There was a part of her fear that was fading, now that she was inside.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice trembling just a bit. She swallowed hard and crossed her arms so that her shaking hands wouldn't be so obvious. "Where are we?"

The Doctor didn't approach her, but stayed by the door. "I'm the Doctor," he replied, "and we are safe, and that's all that matters right now. But since I did just save your life, I think I get a free question, too. Who are _you_?"

"Dawn," the girl said. "My name is Dawn. Look, whoever you are...thank you. You did save me. But I really, _really_ need to get home."

"No doubt," the Doctor replied. "And home you'll go. I just thought we should give the thing out there a little more time to put some distance between us."

Dawn shook her head. "You don't understand. She's not going to give up. It doesn't matter where I'll go - she'll follow me."

The Doctor smiled, but he found he could only manage it half-heartedly. "Whatever she wants with you, I can guarantee you...she won't follow _me_." Before Dawn could respond, he brushed past her to the center of the TARDIS. He pulled up a map of the surrounding area, and then looked to the girl. "Come tell me where your house is. I'll make sure we find a way around her."

Dawn followed him up to the console. As soon as she put a foot onto the platform, the TARDIS began to vibrate. Dawn cried out and gripped the railing.

"Shh, shh, old girl," the Doctor said, alarmed. "What's the matter with you?" He started fiddling with the controls, flipping levers and pushing buttons to try to see what had happened. The readings didn't make any sense. None at all. The energy levels the TARDIS was picking up were almost as impossible as the creature following Dawn. For something to be giving off that kind of energy, it would have cost countless suns. In fact, reality should barely have survived the burden of creating something like that. And it was originating -

"Oh," the Doctor whispered. "Ah."

"What happened? Was that an earthquake?" the girl behind him asked, her voice bright with fear. He didn't turn around for a moment. He needed to collect his thoughts once more.

Did she even know? Could she? She was really and truly human, after all. The TARDIS told him that much. She was a genuine human girl wrapped around all of that universe-ripping energy like gift paper. There was no way she could know. So what was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to _do_?

But she did understand, at least to an extent, what was following her. She knew enough to be frightened. Although being stalked by anything was enough to do that to a human. He pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. This was bad. Oh, so bad.

He finally mustered up the courage to turn around and look at her. She was looking back at him, anxiously. When he was fully turned, her expression shifted. Some of the fear was replaced by defiance. "You know why Glory is after me," she said. Said, not asked.

He wasn't going to lie to her. "Yes," he replied.

"Let me go home," she whispered.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said firmly. "Trust me. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But I _do_ know what you are, and we can't risk her getting her hands on you. So we're going to have to be smart about this." He rounded the console again, shoving his glasses onto his face and peering into screens as he tried to pinpoint Glory's location. He was going to deal with her - oh yes, he was going to deal with her eventually - but _not_ with the girl nearby. He would _not_ have all that he had done undone.

"Tell me who you are," Dawn insisted, following him. "And how you know who I am."

He hesitated, his hand hovering over a lever. She _didn't_ know. Not everything. Not fully. He looked at her: so fragile. So close to breaking. Like everything else in this part of reality, because of her, and the creature that was after her. "I'm a friend," he settled. "I'm...an old friend. I am someone who wants you to be safe. I am here to help."

Dawn didn't move for a moment, considering. Her eyes bored into the Doctor, studying him, trying to know him. Finally, she conceded. "Okay." She sat down by the railing, knees up to her chest, watching the Doctor through still-cautious eyes. "My house is there," she added, pointing to the display.

The Doctor surveyed the display, pinpointing Dawn's house and calculating the best route - the route that was, statistically, likeliest to be Glory-free. It only took him a moment, and he turned around, offering a hand to Dawn. "Well then," he said, smiling, "if you're ready...allons-y."


	5. Chapter 5

The only sounds that broke the silence of the room were Willow's low chanting, almost under her breath, of the locator spell, and the soft padding of Buffy's feet as she paced around the room.

Giles was attempting to keep calm, for the sake of the others. He knew how bad this was, more than anyone else did - with the exception, perhaps, of Tara, thanks to whatever manipulation Glory had done to her. But even Giles had only speculation to guide him, because the texts were vague. What exactly _was_ the Ka Faraq Gatri? What were his powers? Weaknesses? What had he done that the texts called him the _Destroyer of Worlds_? He didn't know. For once, he was in the dark.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me." Giles looked up at Buffy, who had stopped pacing but was not looking at him. She stared with hard eyes into the wall. "You didn't even wake me up."

"Buffy, I didn't know he was here already," Giles said quietly. "I-I had hoped that Spike and I could do something about it without worrying you."

"And now that _thing_ has Dawn," Buffy retorted, "and we don't know where he is, or what he's doing with her. Sorry if _we didn't want to worry you_ doesn't strike me as a great excuse right now, while my sister might be getting murdered."

"If the Ka Faraq Gatri had killed Dawnie, we'd know," Anya pointed out. "Due to the universes colliding and life as we know it coming to an end."

Buffy shot the ex-demon her most withering glare, but said nothing. Giles saw the screaming tension in her body, coupled with crippling exhaustion. He had wanted only to spare her this. Would it have happened differently, if he had woken her? Would Dawn still be safe? There was no point in dwelling on the maybes, but he couldn't help it. Perhaps this was all his fault.

Willow stopped chanting, and all eyes turned to her. She looked up at Buffy. "I don't understand," she said, frowning. "This says that Dawn is at the cemetery."

Giles and Spike bolted up. "The box," Spike said.

Buffy grabbed a crossbow and pulled on a jacket, starting for the door. "Then he has her. And we know where he is. So I'm going to get her."

Giles grabbed Buffy's arm, and she turned furiously to him. But whatever sharp comment she was about to say died on her lips as she saw the terror in his eyes. "Buffy, that crossbow...it's not going to work. You can't just...just _charge_ at a creature like this. It kills me to say it, to _think_ it, but he's as powerful as Glory, if the legends are true. We _must_ have a plan. Or this is a suicide mission."

Buffy faltered, swallowed, then looked away. "He has my sister, Giles," she said in a broken voice. "We've given up _so much_. I can't just let him take her."

"We won't," Giles said firmly. "But if we go in without a plan, then we'll all die. The books promise us that."

Buffy opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a knock at the door. Everyone turned to it, and Giles' stomach dropped. Buffy, crossbow at the ready, went to the door. Spike followed her with a long sword, and Xander flanked her on the other side with an axe. Giles, Willow, and Anya held back, watching them warily.

Buffy threw the door open, crossbow raised and a furious scowl on her face.

"Hello!" a cheerful voice exclaimed. "Lovely evening. Figured I'd come by and return someone you seem to've lost."

Giles stepped forward, unbelieving, but there she was: Dawn stood next to a tall, slender man in a brown trenchcoat, looking shaken and pale but unharmed. She was clinging to his hand. She was safe.

"Have to say, I'm not a huge fan of the crossbow at my throat, although it is a clever make," the man continued, sounding nonplussed. He touched the bolt with a finger and tilted its aim away from him. "And I _can_ understand the instinct. Not to worry, though: Glory's not coming anywhere near here, not while I'm popping by. Mind if we come in? It's a bit chilly, and Dawn here's had a bit of a rough night."

"Does he need an invitation?" Anya called. "If he needs an invitation, don't give him one!"

The man...Giles had to stop kidding himself. He knew full well who the man was. The Ka Faraq Gatri glanced at her, and grinned. "Oh, well, I don't _need_ an invitation, not like that, but I wasn't raised in a barn. Thought it'd be polite. Well?" He looked at Buffy expectantly. She had lowered her crossbow and was staring at him. "May we?"

Buffy took Dawn by the hand and ushered her inside. The Ka Faraq Gatri took that as an invitation and stepped over the threshhold himself. "Lovely house," he said brightly. "Few more weapons than I'd prefer but to each their own, as they say. You wouldn't happen to have any tea, would you? Dawn could maybe use some if you have some black and I wouldn't say no to a cup either. As I always say - "

"Who are you?" Buffy interrupted. "_What_ are you?"

There was a silence for just a moment, and Giles felt the heaviness in it. He felt the contemplation, the consideration, as the Ka Faraq Gatri studied Buffy. "Right!" he said, finally, and the heaviness lifted. "Introductions, how rude of me. I do tend to be rude this time around, you'll have to forgive it. I'm the Doctor." He stuck his hand out to Buffy, who regarded it like a snake. It didn't seem to phase him. "And you must be Buffy. Brilliant name by the way, fun to say, _Buffy_."

"I talked about you," Dawn said hurriedly as Buffy raised her crossbow again. The Ka Faraq Gatri raised his eyebrows at the weapon, but didn't seem unduly concerned. In fact, if Giles wasn't mistaken, there was a spark of amusement in his eyes. It would make sense. What could a crossbow do to a creature like this?

"Dawn, are you hurt?" Buffy asked, not moving the crossbow, pointed square at the Ka Faraq Gatri's heart. He looked a little put out at that question, but was quiet and looked at Dawn.

"N-no," Dawn said. "No, he didn't hurt me. Buffy, he saved me. I...I went for a walk, and Glory found me in the park. I was so scared I couldn't move. Then the Doctor came, grabbed me, and took me back to his...um..." Dawn looked helplessly at the - at the Doctor. Giles made a mental note to call this creature whatever he wanted to be called, which, apparently, was _the Doctor_.

"TARDIS," the Doctor supplied for Dawn, his hands stuffed in his pockets, rocking once from heel to toe. "Took you back to my TARDIS."

"To his TARDIS," Dawn echoed. "Then he found the best way to get back here, the way we could best avoid Glory. He didn't hurt me."

"Well, it does make sense," Anya said thoughtfully. "I mean, he wouldn't want Glory to have the Key when he could have you for himself, would he? What sense would that make?"

There was a moment of silence, and then the assembled Scoobies burst into shouting. Anya looked confused and defiant, and Buffy's cry of "_did you seriously just say that?_" was heard above the cacophony. A piercing whistle cut through the sound, and everyone gripped their ears.

The Doctor had his pinky fingers at the corners of his mouth, and when all eyes turned to him he lowered them. "That's better," he said. "No need for all that racket. I already knew what she is. Nobody had to tell me. _Now wait_, you say, (and I can't blame you), _Doctor, how on earth did you know that Dawn is the Key_?" The Doctor started walking, making his way to the kitchen. The others, baffled, simply followed him, as he began to open and shut cabinet doors while he rambled. "_Could it be that you're just that clever?_ Well, the answer is technically: oh yes, I am that clever. But." He paused, and turned around, frowning. "_Do_ you have any tea, or no?"

"Oh no," Buffy said, and the Doctor looked disappointed. "I'm not giving you _anything_ until you tell us who you are and what you're doing here, and what you want with Dawn. For all I know you're...powered by tea, or something."

The Doctor's face broke into a grin at that, and he laughed. "Well, who _isn't_ powered by tea?" he cried. "You are funny. I like you. And I already told you who I am: I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor who?" Buffy demanded. "That's not a name."

The Doctor shrugged. "It's the best I've got."

A moment of silence proved that that was the best answer they were going to get from the Doctor. So Buffy pressed forward. "That wasn't my whole question. What are you doing here, and what do you want with my sister?"

The sunniness left the Doctor's face, and he looked suddenly older. Not as old as Giles knew he must be, but older. It was only there for a second, before the bright smile was plastered back on. "Came to investigate something. Got a message letting me know that my unique services were required so I simply plugged in the spatiotemporal coordinates and bam! Sunnydale, California. Circa...oh, 2003 or so? I didn't come for your sister. Didn't even know she was here. Bit of a...surprising coincidence, really." He looked at Dawn with sorrow in his eyes. "I'd never've guessed. A _girl_."

"Not loving the vague mumblings, so let's get back to the q-and-a," Buffy snapped. "What do you want?"

The look on the Doctor's face was clear: he was about to launch into another eloquent evasion. It was a brilliant tactic. He would pump in enough jargon and self-aggrandizement that he would begin to confuse and intimidate the others. Giles stepped forward, clearing his throat as the Doctor took in a breath to speak. "I think I have, perhaps, a better question," he said, and the look that flashed across the Doctor's face was just barely recognizable as apprehension. "Are you, as I believe you to be, the being the legends refer to as the _Ka Faraq Gatri_?"

The Doctor stiffened, and Giles felt a thrill of fear. All of the false cheer was gone from his face, replaced by darkness, and even Dawn, who had defended him so vigorously, shrank back. "How do you know that name?" the Doctor asked quietly. "Who are you with? Torchwood? Because if you are, then we have some things to discuss."

Giles was very glad that he was not with Torchwood, because the cold anger in the Doctor's face told him that he wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that discussion. "No," he said quickly. "No, I'm not. I've read about you."

"In what books?" the Doctor demanded, taking a step towards him. Buffy swung her crossbow back up and aimed it at the Doctor.

"Back off," she growled. "Or we'll see how fast you talk with a crossbow bolt through your head."

The Doctor didn't turn around, or spare her a glance. He didn't step forward again, either. "Are you the one who called me?" he asked. "There should be..._vanishingly_ few people on Earth who know that name, at least at this time." Giles started to try to form an answer, but the Doctor's head shot up towards the hall, and before any of them could do anything he had shoved past Giles and swiftly made his way upstairs.

He was already in Tara's room by the time they caught up with him. Willow cried out, but Giles restrained her.

The Doctor was simply sitting on Tara's bed, while she touched his face with trembling fingertips. He stared at her intently, but his hands were on the bed, and he was completely motionless. "_Ka Faraq Gatri. _You're here," she whispered.

"I am," he replied softly.

She pressed her flat palms against the sides of the Doctor's head, and passed them along the planes of his face, ran her fingers through his hair, and down his arms. Finally she grasped his hands in hers, staring at them. He never took his eyes off of her face. She lifted his hands and pushed his palms against her head, and he slipped his fingers onto her temples. His eyes widened. "Take it away," she whimpered.

The Doctor's face fell, and his hands softened to hold Tara's head. "I'm sorry," he said. "I am so, so sorry. I don't know what she's done to you."

"Make me blind again," Tara whispered. "I can see all of it. I can see what's coming. I don't _want_ to see what's coming. It's bad. It makes me dirty. So small, so small, and so dirty." She began to cry, pressing her cheek against the Doctor's chest. He froze for a moment, then began to stroke her hair. His eyes became unfocused as he did so, lost a thousand miles away. "Please take it away," Tara wept.

"I can't, I'm so sorry," the Doctor said, snapping out of his reverie. "It's not meant for you. It's...burning you."

"It burns," Tara breathed in agreement.

"But it does _not_ make you dirty," the Doctor continued, putting a hand under her chin and tilting her head up so their eyes met. "Or small. You are clean, and, and good, and oh, _so_ clever. You knew to call me. All of that terrible knowledge, foreknowledge and past knowledge and raw information swimming around in your brain, and you managed to pick out the important bits and call for me. That's nothing _small_, Tara Maclay. That's...it's brilliant, is what it is." He brushed her hair out of her eyes, and rested his fingers again on her temples. "Now I want you to sleep. I will find out what I need to do to help you. But for now...sleep." He helped her lay down, guiding her onto her pillow. She looked up at him through suddenly heavy eyelids, and grabbed his tie. He was jerked down to her face, and they stared at each other for a moment.

"She's a little girl," Tara said. "She glows, she shimmers, she will tear everything to shreds...but she is a girl. She _is_."

There was a long silence in which Willow grabbed Dawn and held her tight. Giles saw Buffy take a step forward, and shook his head. Finally, the Doctor sighed, and said, "I know." Tara's eyes fluttered closed, and her breathing became deep and even. It took the Doctor a moment to stand up, and when he did he was still watching Tara. "What happened to her?"

"Glory...messed with her brain," Willow said, her voice breaking. "She thought...she thought Tara was the Key."

"Oh, that's good," the Doctor said suddenly. Willow looked stricken, and he flinched and shook his head hurriedly. "No no, sorry, not that way. It's good that she couldn't sense it. Means she's not as strong as she could be. That..._that_ is good."

"Not as strong as she could be?" Buffy cried in disbelief. "Are you serious? Have you _met_ her? We've barely escaped with our lives each time."

The Doctor began to pace around Tara's room. "Well, yeah. She's not at full potential but she's still managed to get here, she's angry, and you are only human, so it wouldn't be a cake-walk to get rid of her. But if she couldn't sense the Key - I mean, _wow_." He whistled and glanced at Dawn. "Like an atomic-powered night light, you are. Whatever she's done to manifest here must be occluding some of her senses. But how she did _that_," - he gestured to Tara - "is beyond me. It shouldn't work like that. She shouldn't be able to link her up to the Vortex like that. And even if she could - how long has she been like this?"

"Two days," Willow replied.

The Doctor shook his head, running his hands through his hair, causing it to stick up in new and interesting ways. "No, no, there's no _way_ a human could survive that much exposure unshielded. Should've fried all of her synapses. Even her psionic abilities couldn't have protected her from it. There's something else, something I'm not seeing. Think, think..."

Dawn interrupted, "How about that tea?"

Giles looked to the girl as the Doctor did, and felt anew a wave of relief that she was alive. But how she could have brought herself to trust this creature was what perplexed him. They were all so careful, especially now. What about this Doctor convinced her, despite all of his bizarre manner, his inexplicable technology, and the knowledge he had of her, that he could be trusted? He saw in her eyes that she did trust him. She was frightened by him, but she trusted him. He glanced over at the Doctor, who was smiling. "That sounds good," he said.


	6. Chapter 6

American tea was so terrible. He'd thought the presence of the British man might suggest that there was hope, but no. As bad as any cup he'd had in the States. But it was warm, and he was shaken from his encounter with the girl upstairs, so he sipped it while he buckled down under the barrage of questions that were coming his way.

"What are you?" Buffy asked, in full bad-cop posture across the table from him.

"The Doctor," he replied.

"No, like, what _species_."

"I'm a Time Lord."

"You look human to me."

The Doctor looked affronted. "No, _you_ look Time Lord. We were there first." He sipped his tea.

Buffy shook her head. "Whatever. So you say you're an alien."

"Right, I say that because I am an alien."

"What planet are you from? Mars?"

She had no idea, but her sarcasm managed to skew a very painful question into a bit of humor. For that, the Doctor was grateful, and managed a sideways grin. "Ah, nah, you wouldn't want to see what's going on on Mars. I'm from much farther off. I guarantee you've never heard of it."

"And you're here because Tara called you somehow?"

The Doctor nodded over another sip, and shrugged. "In short, yeah."

Buffy leaned on the table a little bit, and the Doctor had to suppress a grin. It was so made-for-tv perfect. His grin faded when Buffy asked, "And you being here has _nothing_ to do with my sister?"

He hesitated. It was...perilous. He still hadn't managed to work out which bits of the story they understood. Whatever Glory had done here, she'd muddled her tracks quite well. Had she known he'd show up? She must have. But whatever she thought or knew, she'd certainly led these people on a merry chase, giving them just enough information to keep them scared, not enough to keep them safe. He drew a deep breath before answering. "Well. Yes. I didn't come because of her. But...I'm not going to lie to you. You're up against enough already. I'd been looking for the Key. For a while. Didn't expect to find it, not here."

"And now that you've found her?" Buffy asked.

The Doctor sighed, standing up. "I-I don't know. But right now we have more pressing issues. You know as well as I do that we can't allow Glory to get her hands on Dawn."

"Obviously," Buffy snapped. "But how _exactly_ do you propose we stop her?"

Oh, yes. Now this was comfortable territory. The Doctor felt a smile slip back onto his face. "Right, all right. So. Whatever Glory used to get here, it can't be holding her here very strongly. Nothing could. We need to figure out what she did to get here and cut off her energy supply, or sever the link. Do you know where she's staying?"

Buffy laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, I've tracked Glory back to her hideout. Every time I feel like dying, that's what I do." The Doctor stared at her blankly, and she sighed. "No, I don't know where she's staying."

"Not a problem. I'll track down her energy signal because she is just giving off _tons_ of it." The Doctor hesitated. "Not that you can really measure energy in tons." He shook his head briskly and took a long swig of tea, then clapped his hands once. "Well! To do that I need to get back to my TARDIS. So I bid you all a good night, and I will report back in the morning."

He started for the door, but felt a hand on his arm. He turned around, and Dawn stood in front of him. "Can't you stay?" she asked. The Doctor frowned, looked quickly up at Buffy, and then back down at Dawn. "You said Glory wouldn't follow you...that she wouldn't come after you. If you're here, we're safe."

The Doctor smiled, but it died quickly. "Not sure your friends agree," he said, and Dawn turned to see her friends' disapproving, frightened faces. "It's okay. I'll be back in the morning. Sleep tight, and let's avoid any more impromptu outings, yes?"

Dawn nodded and took her hand away. The Doctor forced another smile and walked out the door, feeling the girl's eyes on him as he closed the door behind him.

He paused halfway down the lawn, with a long sigh. "What," he snapped, not turning around.

The vampire behind him didn't speak for a moment, but the Doctor felt him, just waiting there like a creature in stasis. No breath. No heartbeat. No self-generated energy. The Doctor shivered - it was so _wrong_. Here was a creature who should not exist. A remnant of something his people had worked so hard to eradicate. "If you hurt her, I'll kill you," the vampire said. Unemotional, simple.

The Doctor turned around, pinning the vampire with his eyes. "Really? And, pray tell, how would you go about that?" he shot back. "Are you going to _bite_ me, little vampire? I've faced worse."

The vampire took a step toward him, and the Doctor looked down at him: all peroxide hair and leather jacket and anxiety. Wait. The Doctor frowned deeper. This vampire was frightened. And not for himself. "Those Summers girls have been through enough," the vampire said, "they don't deserve any more pain."

The Doctor hesitated, then shoved his hands in his pockets. "And what does that matter to you?" he asked, not mockingly. "How could that _possibly_ matter to you?"

The vampire glared at him. "Things are a little bit more complicated than maybe you'd like to believe, Time Lord," he retorted, definitely mockingly.

Oh. _Oh_. He knew that expression. He'd been on the receiving end of it before. He stared at the vampire. "You're in love with her," he said, disbelieving. "You're in love with Dawn's sister. You're - what did you say your name was, again?"

"I didn't," said the vampire. "But it's Spike."

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Spike. As in, William the Bloody? As in the Order of Aurelius?"

Spike looked uncomfortable. "Never actually a member," he said, "just a...let's say, colleague."

"And you're in love with a human girl. Why?" the Doctor asked. "Why aren't you trying to kill them?"

"Been there, done that," Spike replied. "Besides, trying to kill the Slayer...not always a good bet for a vampire."

The Doctor startled, then stepped closer to Spike. "Did you say the _Slayer_? Buffy Summers is the _Slayer_?"

Spike gave him an odd look, then pulled out a cigarette. "Yeah, mate, you couldn't tell? All that fancy energy-reading talk and you couldn't tell?" He lit the cigarette and began to take a drag when the Doctor snatched it away and put it out on the pavement with his shoe, then picking it up again. Spike glared at him.

"Some of us have functioning lungs we'd like to keep that way, thanks," the Doctor said dryly. "So if she's the Slayer, why didn't she kill me? Or even try to?"

Spike smiled bitterly. "You saved her sister," he said. "Whatever motivation you had for it, you saved Dawn from Glory. Apparently that's a free pass for not being human in Buffy's book...at least for this time." The vampire's face then turned dark, and he glowered. "But I know what you are, even if Buffy doesn't. Even if Giles doesn't. I know what your people have done. And if I get the _slightest_ hint that you're going to call for back-up - "

The Doctor laughed, just once, a harsh, choked sound. Spike quieted, staring at him uneasily. "You don't have to worry about _my people_," he said. "Or my calling for back-up. And I didn't come here to hurt anyone, but you could use allies against Glory."

"And you think _you_ can take her?" Spike scoffed. "Unless you've been here and now before, you have no idea what you're up against."

"I don't _think_ I can take her," the Doctor replied, "I know I have to." He tossed the cigarette back to Spike, who caught it easily. "And I know you're scared. You're scared for them. But listen to me: I am not your enemy."

"Your kind has always been my enemy," Spike said, "and I'll believe you're not when I see it."

The Doctor paused, then shrugged. "Fair enough," he said, straightening and sticking his hands back in his pockets. "Then I'll give you one piece of advice. Stay out of my way."

"Not bloody likely," Spike began, but the Doctor turned and walked away. Nothing more constructive would come out of this conversation, he knew. And he had to go before the twisting in his stomach, the curdling in his blood, made him do something he regretted to this creature who, to be fair, had done nothing to him.

The walk back to the TARDIS, the cool night air, calmed him somewhat. He could feel his heartbeats slow to normal, his breathing even out. When he got to his ship, his hands fumbled with the key for a moment, and he stumbled inside.

He made his way to the console and let the TARDIS support him. "What am I supposed to do?" he whispered. "Why did it have to be a _child_? I can't do it again, I just can't, I - " His voice caught in his throat. She looked like little Victoria Waterfield, whom he'd sworn to protect. And she trusted him, like Victoria. She wouldn't be the first trusting young human he'd let down, though. He passed a hand over his face, and found himself to be trembling.

This wouldn't do. Not at all. He ran his hands roughly through his hair and then flipped on his viewing screen, zooming out so that he could see the whole of Sunnydale. "Let's see where all this nasty artron energy is coming from," he said, his voice unsteady. He cleared his throat and shook his head. He flipped a switch and the map of the town changed from a physical view to a bright, shining picture of the energetic signatures present. Warm, quiet orange biological energy: all the unsuspecting humans, lying sleeping or watching telly or reading or talking to their loved ones. The sharp waves of Silverberg energy (more than one would expect), his own dot of chronon energy, normal levels of artron energy...and, ah. There.

He followed the rising waves of artron energy with his finger until they came to a peak over one building on the east side of town. That was where she was hiding. He would have to pay her a visit, figure out exactly how she had gotten here and how she was remaining here, and send her back. He felt an unexpected pain at that thought, but put it aside. It had to be done, and he had to do it. He had lost too much. He would put an end to this.

But first, he thought blearily, rest.


	7. Chapter 7

Dawn couldn't sleep.

No matter how much she tried, she couldn't keep her eyes closed. Every time she tried, she was subjected to flashes of memories she shouldn't be having. She knew, on a instinctive level, what they were: they were the Key's memories. The memories of the being she'd existed as for years, before she was Dawn.

She saw a great and terrible battle, fought by great and terrible creatures. She saw planets exploding into the vast expanse of space like fireworks. She saw countless lives snuffed out in moments, entire species destroyed instantaneously. And in a way, she couldn't possibly say how, she felt timelines collapse and implode. Whole potentialities. Whatever that meant.

She saw the Doctor. Not the Doctor she'd met today - but she knew it was him. His hair was longer, curling softly, and he was dressed in aristocratic clothes. But it was him. The look in his eyes, so sad, so dark...it was him. She saw as he took the Key and created something unspeakable. And then, reflected in his eyes, she saw one more planet destroyed, and she knew which planet it was.

That was why Dawn Summers could not sleep.

She sat up, working out knots in her shoulders, then playing anxiously with her hair: pulling it up, taking it down, brushing through it with her fingers. She knew that she was the Key. She'd known for a while. She knew that, like Pinocchio, she was not a real girl. But it was worse to remember what she used to be. Why did she have memories of it? Why would the Key form memories?

As she ran her fingers through her hair, she wondered if it was his fault. If he'd brought the memories with him when he showed up, given them to her when he grabbed her hand like Glory had given Tara...whatever it was she'd given her. Or whatever it was she'd connected her to. The Doctor said it was the Vortex. Maybe he'd done something similar to her. Maybe he'd connected her to something, too. She'd never seen these things before. And, more than anything, she didn't want to. She had enough pain. She didn't want his, too.

She wished he'd have stayed the night. She had no reason to believe that he was telling the truth about being able to keep them safe from Glory, but right now it seemed like even a false hope was better than no hope at all. She felt more vulnerable than usual, knowing that he was back in his TARDIS and not downstairs. Even though yesterday she had no idea who he was, it seemed right that he would be here to protect her. It seemed _fair_.

The door opened and her heart stopped. "Dawn?" Buffy said quietly, and Dawn breathed again. Her sister walked in, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Your watch is over?" Dawn said, with only a trace of bitterness.

Buffy ignored the tone and sat down on the bed. "I want you to tell me the truth about that Doctor guy," she said. "Now that he's not here."

Dawn shrugged and pulled her knees up beneath her chin. Buffy stroked her arm gently, and the comforting, familiar gesture startled her. She bit back tears. "I told you the truth before. He really did save me. I don't know why, except that he doesn't want Glory to have me, but he saved me and he brought me back here." She looked up at her sister. "I can't believe he's as bad as Giles thinks he is."

Buffy scooted behind Dawn and put her arms around her. "I don't know, Dawnie. We don't know why he helped you. But right now, I'm just glad he did."

"Are-aren't you mad at me for leaving the house?" Dawn asked quietly.

Buffy laughed into her hair. "Furious," she said. "Totally rageful. But I'm so relieved that you didn't get yourself killed that I'll just have to yell at you later."

"Okay," Dawn said with a watery smile. The sisters were silent for a moment, and Dawn realized something. "Tara's really quiet."

"Yeah," Buffy said. "Willow checked on her - I think she was afraid something was wrong with her. But she's just...sleeping. Peacefully. For the first time since..." She trailed off. Dawn understood.

"Think it was whatever he did?" Dawn asked. It was Buffy's turn to shrug now, but Dawn noticed a tightening in her older sister's posture. A new tension.

"I don't know. But if he can do that, then...I don't know what that means." Buffy exhaled slowly. "I just wish I knew what he had to do with you."

Dawn bit her lip. Her half-dreams flashed through her mind, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. It wasn't like things weren't weird enough. Now she had to have _dreams_ about the inanimate object she used to be? How freaky was that? Buffy didn't need to know. It wouldn't help anything anyway. So all she said was, "I dunno."

"It doesn't matter right now," Buffy said. "We're okay right now." Dawn nodded, feeling tears threaten again. She turned around and held on to her sister, desperately, as though she were afraid that Buffy would disappear if she didn't hold on tight enough. Buffy returned the embrace, whispering, "Hey. Hey, it's okay."

Dawn let go, and tried to laugh. "Sorry, didn't mean to wig," she said in what was a caricature of a light voice. "Just stressed out, I guess. Long day."

"Yeah, well, if anybody's earned the right to wig, it's you," Buffy replied. She stood up and smoothed Dawn's hair back. "Get some sleep, okay? I'll see you in the morning, which is tragically soon." Dawn nodded, and watched Buffy as she left.

Alone in her room, Dawn felt small and scared. Something in her stomach screamed to her that she should have told Buffy about her dreams, but she shoved it aside. No. And anyway, she didn't know that they were anything more than dreams. They felt like more, but what did she know? Nothing. She knew nothing. And it seemed like the universe was out to prove to her how little she knew, more and more each day.

Like, for example, aliens existing. Buffy didn't believe him at all, she knew. Buffy figured he was just another demon. She knew Buffy could tell that the Doctor wasn't human - probably her super Slayer hearing picked up his double heartbeat - but she knew her sister, and she knew that she'd only been humoring the Doctor with his talk of coming from another planet. But Dawn believed him. In her bones, she believed him. It felt right, and she knew why. If the Doctor was an alien, then so was she, in some way. And there was a part of her, a part of her that she'd never understood, that suddenly made sense when the Doctor was around. Like it harmonized with him. It was a feeling that gave her relief, like the release of a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

Was it better or worse, being an alien instead of a demon? She didn't know. And of course she wasn't sure if she was precisely either.

But if she was an alien, at least somebody else was, too. There was somebody left living who was not Glory who understood what she was. And that meant something. It made her just a little less alone.

She thought about him, the brightness of his eyes, the quickness of his speech, the way when he looked at her she felt like somebody really _knew_ her, and didn't think she was a freak. She thought about the firmness of his grasp on her wrist when he'd dragged her out of harm's way, the confidence in his voice when he'd told her that Glory wouldn't come after her as long as he was there. The something else in his voice when he'd told her that.

She frowned. The something else was what bothered her. Every now and then that darkness had come over him, like clouds blocking out the sun - but not quite like that. Like the opposite of that. Because she felt like the brightness, the sunniness, _that_ was the mask. The darkness was the Doctor. And once in a while, his defenses fell away, and he was revealed. If her dreams were more than dreams, it made sense. But was that the kind of man she could trust? Was he someone whose presence she should miss, or whose absence should give her relief?

Because Buffy was right. The question that remained unanswered was what _did_ he want with her? He never denied that he wanted something. He knew what she was, and even if he hadn't come here to get her he was interested in her. He wanted to protect her from Glory. That, she could get behind. But once they'd taken care of Glory, assuming the wild idea that they actually could, what then? Giles was scared of this guy. After Glory was gone, was he just next in line to fill the vacant position of Big Bad?

She couldn't believe that. Deep down inside of her, she just couldn't. Whatever he'd done, whoever he'd been before, when he saved her he was doing just that: saving her life, no strings attached. It was reflexive. There wasn't a Big Bad they'd encountered yet who would save a strange girl for no reason - or even if he'd known back then what she was, why would he have brought her home? If this was some kind of cat-and-mouse deal, he was really bad at it, because she knew that he was really gone, and if Buffy wanted to they could just hide Dawn somewhere else and he'd have to find her all over again.

No, whatever weirdness was going on, she couldn't believe that the Doctor wanted to hurt her. She trusted him. He was looking out for her.

And if he could find it in himself to take on her pain, then the least she could do in return was allow herself to dream about some of his.

Dawn closed her eyes and rested on her pillow, and slipped away into nightmares.


	8. Chapter 8

The early morning found the Doctor awake and at the doorstep of the Summers residence. He'd been knocking for a bit, but with no response. Late sleepers, he thought with amusement. Who wasn't awake at six in the morning? Even with all of history and the future at his fingertips, he wouldn't want to waste time by sleeping in.

He sat down on the stoop, leaning his head against the wooden slats of the house, peeking around into the window, which was shuttered. He sighed and pulled out his sonic screwdriver, absently scanning the house. He nodded as he glanced at the results: massive amounts of Silverberg energy emanating from every square inch of the house. It wasn't surprising. The people in the house, especially the young women, were channeling probably dangerous amounts of various types of psionic energy, thinking that they were performing the dark arts. He shook his head. The pantheon of the gaps. If they knew what they were truly dealing with then perhaps they could figure out how to ground themselves, channel it through proper means, even store it for future use...but no. It was magic. Actually, probably _magick_, he thought bemusedly.

He heard the door open, and swiveled his head around rather than stand up. The older man - Giles, he recalled, Rupert Giles - stood in the doorway. "Ah! Morning!" he said, waggling his fingers in greeting. "Wondering when somebody would wake up."

"The girls and Xander had a difficult night," Giles said quietly, "and Spike...is not much of a morning person." The Doctor rolled his eyes, and Giles stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him. "Can I help you?"

The Doctor tilted his head, looking at Giles curiously. "Well, I said I'd be back in the morning. And it's the morning. So I'm back." He paused. "Oh, or was that your invitation for me to leave?"

"You saved Dawn yesterday," Giles said. Admitted, really. He seemed reluctant. "For that, I am grateful."

"Welcome," the Doctor said brightly. Giles didn't make eye contact with him. "But you don't trust me."

"No."

"Don't blame you," the Doctor sighed. "Doesn't seem like there's much to inspire trust in this whole situation. I can tell you that I'm not here to hurt anyone, and that I will help you defeat Glory. But the word of a person you don't trust...not worth much, is it?"

"You can understand why I am hesitant," Giles said, softly. The Doctor studied him, then stood slowly. Giles took a single step back, and that step spoke volumes.

The Doctor put his hands in his pockets, leaning on the house. "Yes. I understand. But - and I don't know what you've read, Rupert, to make you scared of me. I don't know whose propaganda has trickled down to you. But the fact that you know me by...that name, that Miss Maclay called me. That's the name my mortal enemies gave me. Any text that speaks of me by that name is...biased. Let's say biased."

"To tell you the truth, the texts don't say much," Giles said, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his shirt. "Just vague allusions to the destruction you leave in your wake. But now is not the time for indiscretion, Doctor. Now is not the time for careless mistakes and misplaced trust."

"No," the Doctor said quietly. "No, it's not." He looked up at the house, and smiled sadly. "And I know how much you want to spare those girls from pain. But, I'm so sorry, you can't. Not alone. Even your Buffy...as hard as she thinks she is, as many lives as she's taken, she can't face Glory by herself."

"She knows," Giles said. He inhaled, a long, tremulous breath. He slowly placed his glasses back on his face, and met the Doctor's eyes. "I don't want to trust you. All my training goes against it. But can you help them? Can you keep them safe?"

The Doctor watched Giles, then broke eye contact. "I can promise you that I will help them. But I've broken too many promises to keep people safe. I will do everything in my power. But I will not promise."

Giles nodded, smiling bitterly. "I wouldn't have let you back in if you'd said otherwise," he said. "Only a fool or an enemy would promise something like that." The Doctor almost laughed, but instead just clapped Giles on the shoulder.

"Good man," he said. "Mind if I have another cup of tea?"

Giles glanced at him. "I can tell you're not really from England, if what the Summers girls keep in their cupboards counts as tea to you," he said dryly.

The Doctor did laugh then. "Ah, well, you know, beggars and choosers and all that. But you are right, this is not tea. I've had the greatest tea in a thousand galaxies - try to stop for a bit whenever I get a chance to, well, stop for anything at all. But there's nothing like an Earl Gray in a London tea room. Not in all of time and space."

Giles shook his head, but the Doctor saw the barest hints of a smile at the corner of his mouth. The Doctor indulged in a broader version. "So tell me, Rupert - "

"I prefer Giles," the man interjected. The Doctor nodded.

"Giles, then. Tell me. What were your plans, in terms of Glory? How were you thinking of dealing with her, or at least protecting Dawn from her? Because you are absolutely right: under no circumstances, _at all_, can she be allowed to have Dawn."

Giles didn't look up from the cabinet, taking out two bags of tea and keeping his eyes averted. "I'll be honest with you, Doctor. We've been taking it day by day. We haven't much of a plan." He looked up, and the Doctor could suddenly see the tiredness, the bags under the man's eyes. The pressure on him was intense. The Doctor didn't envy him the position he was in. "It's been a matter of luck each time we've been up against her. Barely escaping with our lives, pulling Dawn out of her hands. Eventually..." His voice dropped low, so that the Doctor could barely hear him. "Eventually, we'll be out of strength. We can't run forever."

"No," the Doctor said, "no one can. But now you have me, and if I do anything well, it's coming up with a plan. And I do a number of things quite well. First things first: I found where she's hiding. D'you have a map of the town handy, by any chance?"

"Yes, of course," Giles said, setting the kettle on the stove and then ducking into the living room to get the map. He came back with it, and smoothed it out over the kitchen table. It was much-folded, marked up with red x's and black crosses and hurried scribblings. "We've been using this one for a while," Giles added.

"I can see that," the Doctor said lightly. "Now, according to the readings that the TARDIS was picking up, she'll be just about here." He picked a pencil off of the table and circled the building where the artron energy had been concentrated. "I don't know what she's got there, but whatever it is, it's giving off massive amounts of energy. She's got to have some kind of trans-temporal biometric amplifier or you wouldn't be able to interact with her at all - and you can, right? You can touch her."

"Unfortunately," Giles said, a bit taken aback.

"Right, then. So at least an amplifier, and then some sort of spatio-temporal grounding circuit. But _how_ she could have made sure she'd have all that when she got here, now _that's_ the _real _question." The Doctor tapped the pencil against his chin rapidly, his mind racing. How had she done it? Who had collaborated with her? Who was capable of that, in this time and place?

"You're going to have to start using some simple English, Doc, because I blew up my high school before graduation." The Doctor and Giles looked up, and Buffy, looking disheveled and sleepy, stood in the archway. She frowned. "Well, technically _at_ graduation, but it made for a better one-liner the other way."

"Ah, yes, beauty before truth. Good morning!" the Doctor said, making room for her between himself and Giles at the map. "I was just telling Giles that I found Glory."

"Good, I can take that building off of my places-to-go-in-Sunnydale visitor's guide," Buffy mumbled, but the Doctor noticed how she straightened when he mentioned Glory's name. She studied the map carefully. "You're sure?"

"No," the Doctor said, and she looked at him askance. "Well, I say no. Really, I'm as sure as I could possibly be without having popped by for a visit. That building is showing loads of artron energy, and that tells me that she's there. So I suppose that the answer is yes."

Buffy stared at him, then shook her head. "It is really very much too early for you to be confusing me like this," she said. "So now we found her. How do we take her out?"

It was the Doctor's turn to look strangely at Buffy. How quick she was to assume that violence was the only answer. Of course, this was a young woman who was called the Slayer...and this creature had done her family harm. He pushed aside his knee-jerk protestations and took a deep breath. "Well, can't say it'll be that easy."

"Let's make it easy," Buffy retorted. "Tell me what kind of weapon kills her, or what I need to do to unplug her life support, and I will either bring said weapon or whatever it takes to unplug her, and problem solved."

The Doctor winced. "Ah. Well. The intricacies-"

"I don't care," Buffy interrupted. "This thing wants to hurt my sister. I want to hurt her. Capiche?"

"_Non si capisce affatto, in realtà,_" the Doctor said. Off of Buffy's bewildered expression, he sighed and corrected himself: "No, _you_ don't understand, actually. It's not going to be that simple and no amount of weaponry is going to make it that simple. Whatever it is that Glory has holding her here, it's extremely advanced technology that you may or may not recognize as technology at all. For example, Giles. Would you have said that my TARDIS was a time machine?"

"Th-the police box?" Giles stammered. The Doctor nodded, and Giles shook his head. "No, never."

"She's likely to have some kind of cloaking system to protect her...her life-support, as you called it, quite accurately," the Doctor continued. "And, I imagine that she has at least something of an army."

"You could say that," Buffy said darkly. "So what do you propose we do?"

"Talk to her," the Doctor said plainly.

The Slayer's reaction did not come as a surprise. "Are you _kidding_ me?" she shouted, ignoring Giles' attempts to quiet her. "Is that supposed to be a _joke_? Because it's not funny! You can't just _talk_ to Glory! She will kill you, and she will kill all of us, and she will take my little sister and open up a portal to hell." The Doctor watched her silently, not reacting to her tirade. She faltered. "You're-you're serious."

"The frontal assault isn't always the answer," he said, his voice quiet. "Sometimes, a talk is all it takes. I'm not saying that's the case with Glory. But if nothing else...if nothing else, it'll give us time to get a look around and see what she's working with. If we go in, guns metaphorically blazing, there's no telling what will happen."

Buffy breathed deeply, leaning on the table with her fingers spread, bracing herself. "So are you going to come act like the UN?" she asked. "Because the first words that come out of my mouth when I see her will either be the last ones she hears or the last ones I say."

The Doctor winced. The bravado was failing Buffy, and her pain was showing through like skin under a threadbare shirt. "Yes. Of course. In fact, it'd be best if you let me go by myself, at least the first time. She'll know who I am, and it'd be better if there's no one close to Dawn there for her to use as bait."

"What?" Buffy exclaimed. "No way. You are _not_ going to face Glory by yourself. I don't care what kind of uber-demon you are, they'll tear you to pieces."

The Doctor shook his head. "No. She doesn't want to kill me. She wants to save me for what will happen if she wins." Buffy stopped at that, staring at him. He put his hand over one of hers and looked directly into her eyes. "Promise me that you won't follow me."

"No," Buffy said.

"Promise me."

"I don't even know who you are. This is my town," Buffy spat. "This is my sister's life we're talking about."

"This is the fate of the entire universe that we're talking about, you arrogant - " The Doctor broke off, spinning away from Buffy and running his hands through his hair. "There is so much more at stake than you could possibly understand. If she opens the lock, no one will be left. _No one_. And not only this planet, and not only this potentiality, but every living being will be extinguished. I can't risk that."

"So I should just let you waltz into Glory's HQ and try to sweet-talk her into pretty-please not destroying the universe? Do you get how dumb that sounds?" Buffy said.

"She will use you against your sister," the Doctor insisted. "I can't guarantee I can get you out safely. If she captures you, do you think that all the hounds of hell could keep your sister from coming after you? If the roles were reversed, would anything stop you?"

"No," Buffy said, "and nothing will. I'm coming with you."

The Doctor began to argue, but then stopped. It was no use, and they were wasting time. He looked desperately at Giles, but the other man wouldn't be any help, he could see that instantly. So he sighed, and said, "Fine. Just - no weapons."

"Like hell," Buffy retorted, already heading to the weapons chest. The Doctor grabbed her arm.

"I mean it," he said. "We have to show her that we're really only there to talk."

Buffy glared at him and shook his hand off of her arm, but stopped. "Fine. But if I get killed I'm haunting you so hard."

The Doctor thought about it, and shrugged. "I can deal with that. Allons-y."

He gestured for Buffy to lead, and as she grabbed the doorknob, Giles put a hand on her shoulder. They looked at each other, and the Doctor had to look away. This was private. He didn't listen as they wished each other well and said their good-byes for what they hoped would not be the last time, and then Buffy cleared her throat. "Ready?"

The Doctor nodded, hoping he was telling the truth when he echoed back to her, "Ready."


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note. I don't usually do this, but I wanted to thank everyone who's reading for reading...this is now by far my most-read story on this site. I wanted to warn everyone that due to grad school, chapters might be a little slower coming up on weekdays. I really appreciate everyone's feedback and support. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story._

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><p>She didn't like how quiet he was as they walked towards the warehouse district. Quiet was not something that she was comfortable with. Fights were interspersed with one-liners, research riddled with repartee. Heh. Alliteration. See, Giles? She'd paid some attention in English.<p>

But the Doctor didn't seem interested in talking. He kept pulling out that silver instrument he kept in his pocket, waving it around and then staring at it. It all looked pretty psycho but Buffy assumed that it served some purpose.

As though reading her mind, the Doctor glanced at her. "Sonic screwdriver," he said, waving it in her direction.

"Sonic screwdriver," she echoed, pretending to understand, nodding politely.

The Doctor was kind enough not to press the issue. "I'm scanning for the artron energy I used to find her," he said. "The screwdriver can pick it up. Make sure we're on the right track."

"So it's our GPS," Buffy translated. She looked at the Doctor, who smiled and shook his head. She smiled, too. It made her feel better to know that he had a sense of humor. "What's this artron stuff, anyway?"

The Doctor hesitated for a moment, and Buffy, knowing what was coming, regretted her question. "It's a specific energetic signature," he said, and Buffy sighed. "It reflects a certain instability in a person's temporal basis. It's either inborn or it collects around an individual due to certain activities. It - "

"You don't have to try to confuse me on purpose," Buffy said, just the smallest bit irritably. "If you don't want to tell me, say, Buffy, I don't want to tell you."

The Doctor stopped talking, and after a moment, he looked at her. Buffy could have sworn she saw a moment of hurt on his face. "I was explaining," he said.

"No," Buffy said. "You were technobabbling. Okay, here's a better question: is what artron energy is important?"

"For you, for this mission?" the Doctor asked, and Buffy nodded. "Then, no."

"Then nevermind," Buffy said.

The walked in silence for a while, and Buffy began to feel the hair on her arms stand up. She looked quickly at the Doctor, and he nodded. _Close_, he mouthed. She nodded, her body tightening. She wished she had a sword, or a crossbow, or even a stake to grip. She felt naked.

"You'd do anything for her," the Doctor said quietly, suddenly.

Buffy didn't have to ask what he meant. "Anything," she agreed.

The Doctor nodded. "She's lucky to have you," he said.

Buffy waited for the "..._but_", and the order for her to return home. Neither was forthcoming. She watched the Doctor, whose brow was contracted, as though in pain. She'd seen that look before. It was loss. She wasn't going to ask, but she did wonder who it was.

As they continued, she wondered why she'd expected different. This wasn't a great time for a heart-to-heart, really. But she felt so shut off from this man. He'd claimed he was an alien. That was obviously ridiculous and she wasn't fooled, but he did kind of feel like one at the moment. Like he had to work hard to seem as human as he did, like it was a mask that he had to concentrate on so that it didn't slip. She felt like that, sometimes. When she felt like the darkness was beginning to swallow her, and she just couldn't bear to let her friends know, and they had too much stuff going on anyway, and she just needed to deal with it because she was the Slayer, after all -

Woah. Reel it back in, Summers.

They approached the warehouse, and Buffy knew it was the one. She looked up at the Doctor and he nodded, stashing his sonic screwdriver in his pocket. She suddenly wondered why she couldn't carry a weapon if he got to bring his screwdriver. Before she had time to question him about it, he opened the door.

He did it cautiously, slowly, not at all like the door-busting grand entrance Buffy would have chosen. He didn't look scared, but he was being careful. He eventually opened the door wide enough to step through, and gestured for Buffy to follow him.

The warehouse was barren. Buffy gaped as she walked through. There was literally no way that this was where Glory was staying. Pipes showed through the walls and ran along the ceiling, the concrete floor was filthy and stained, the windows cracked and dirty. Her lip curled with distaste.

"This isn't right," she heard the Doctor mutter. "There's no residue. There should be residue absolutely soaked in the walls and floors and ceilings of this place, but there's not a _trace_ of it." He looked at Buffy, his eyes bright with alarm. "Something's wrong. This is some kind of trap. We have to get out of here."

"Oh no, Doctor, it's not a trap." Buffy and the Doctor froze for just a moment, then looked ahead of them. Glory smiled and waggled her fingers. Just like the Doctor did. Buffy felt a wave of nausea that she couldn't quite explain. "Hi there."

"Glory," the Doctor said, his voice dark. "Which, by the way, interesting name. A little pretentious, don't you think?"

"Or entirely appropriate, given the magnitude of what I'm about to do," the hell-goddess said, walking up to them, cool as ice. Buffy got the impression she'd dressed up for the Doctor. Her bright red dress barely contained her curves, and she was wearing diamonds and stripper heels. Her heels _clacked_ on the concrete floor as she approached them. "This crappy little warehouse is about to become a focal point in reality."

"It's not," the Doctor said, and there was a hint of sadness in his voice. "I can't let you do it. And you know why."

"Have you come to talk me down, Doctor?" Glory asked, amused. Her eyes flicked over to Buffy, just for a moment, then quickly back. "Boy, you do know how to pick your pet apes. You've got a thing for blondes, don't you? What was her name...?"

Buffy felt a surge of anger at _pet ape_, but it was nothing compared to what she heard in the Doctor's voice as he growled, "We are not talking about her, Glory. This is about us, and now. Don't you speak of her again."

"Ooh, touchy," Glory laughed. "Come on now, Doctor. Let me show you around the place. I know you're just _dying_ to see how I did it." She turned around and began to walk away from them. The Doctor hesitated, then followed, without a glance back at Buffy, who followed him in turn.

"It took me a while to figure out what I had to do," Glory was saying casually, as though talking about her most recent shopping trip. "You did a number on us, Doctor."

"Not enough of one, evidently," the Doctor said, but Buffy heard it in his voice: Glory was right. He couldn't wait to see what she'd done. There was a layer of almost childlike excitement under his words, and it grossed Buffy out. After all that Glory had done, he was still going to humor her like this?

"Once I got here, though, it was easy enough to figure out how to stay," Glory continued, leading them around a turn. Buffy could already see that it was darker where they were going. Obviously it wasn't like she was afraid of the dark, but she'd seen movies before. The villain was leading them somewhere dark, and she was apparently stuck with a useless partner. Things were about to get punch-y, and soon.

"For all that I jest about your obsession, these humans you're so fond of have their uses," Glory said. She ran a hand over her hips and turned her head around to grin at the Doctor. "And at least they're fun to look at, right?"

The Doctor said nothing, his mouth set in a grim line. Glory laughed.

"Quit being such a stick in the mud, Doctor. I remember you used to know how to have fun, once. Bet you couldn't have guessed it from looking at him, could you, sweetie?" Glory asked, finally addressing Buffy. Buffy didn't know what to say, but really, _really_ hoped Glory wasn't implying anything by "how to have fun". That would be way too much to deal with. Glory laughed again. "Wow, cat got your tongue, Slayer? Or has he already turned you into one of his little mindless followers? He has that effect on human girls. They'll up and leave everything for him."

"Stop it," the Doctor said.

"If you're not careful, he'll enchant you, too. You'll forget all about your duties and responsibilities, and just ride with him...until he gets tired of you, of course."

"I said stop it," the Doctor hissed. Glory looked at him, eyebrows arched in feigned shock.

"Did I hit a nerve?" she asked.

"I don't have time for these games," the Doctor said harshly. "I'm going to give you a choice."

"He always gives 'em a choice," Glory said patronizingly to Buffy.

"Either you stop what you're doing," the Doctor said, a little louder, "or I will stop it for you. And I can't guarantee what will happen to you if you take the latter option."

"Oh, _wow_, was that a _threat_?" Glory cried, grinning broadly. "No no, Doctor, I don't like threats. At least, not when I'm not saying them. But before you say anything else, I think we ought to take a look over here. My cards aren't, as they say, all on the table yet."

Glory disappeared around a corner, and the Doctor and Buffy sprinted after her. The Doctor was slightly ahead of Buffy, so that when he stopped dead as soon as the next room was in view, Buffy slammed into him.

He staggered only a little, then righted himself and gripped Buffy's arm. It took her eyes only a fraction of a second to adjust, but as soon as they did, she knew why he'd grabbed her.

Dawn sat in the middle of the room, tied to a chair, with Glory standing over her, gloating.


	10. Chapter 10

"No!" Buffy screamed, and the Doctor struggled with all of his strength to hold her back. He knew that if she were at her full capacity, without the trauma of seeing her sister here, he wouldn't have been able to restrain her. She was extremely strong.

"No, Buffy!" he shouted, shoving himself in front of her. "Don't provoke her. She has the upper hand right now."

"Right now?" Buffy hissed. "She just _won_. Do you remember what we were fighting about? Who gets to have Dawn? _She has Dawn_. That is a winning scenario."

"And it was so easy to achieve," Glory laughed. Buffy glared at her, and the Doctor turned his head to watch her warily. "Once I knew the two of you were out of the house, I mean, seriously, nobody in that house is any use _at all_."

"If you hurt them - " Buffy began, but Glory rolled her eyes.

"Please. One of my minions knocked your boy out so fast he couldn't make a noise, and then swept in and grabbed Dawnie before any of your idiots had a chance to realize we'd been there at all," Glory said. "I swear, it's like you didn't care if I got her or not."

Buffy surged forward again and with every ounce of strength in him, the Doctor held her back and pinned her to a wall. She stared at him out of furious green eyes, desperate and scared. So much like hers. No - _focus_. "Let me go. We have nothing left to lose," Buffy breathed.

"We have _everything_ left to lose," the Doctor said quietly. Buffy stared at him. "It's not over til the proverbial fat lady sings, Buffy. And she hasn't. Because _you_ don't have everything you need, do you?" he asked in a louder voice, turning and smiling humorlessly at Glory, whose face stayed purposefully still in its smug grin. "That's why you brought me here. _You_ called me. Because you don't know how to do it."

Buffy gaped at him, and he knew that if Glory weren't so invested in keeping up her appearance of power, she would have, too. It was in her eyes. "She-she can't open the portal?" Buffy said.

"Don't be so sure about that," Glory snapped. "I have a couple of back-up methods I can try. But you're right about one thing, Doctor: you are here for a reason." She noticed Buffy move, just slightly, towards her. She pulled up a gleaming stiletto blade, displaying it conspicuously to Buffy and the Doctor before laying it against Dawn's clavicle. The girl's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and the Doctor saw her mouth _I'm sorry_ to her sister. "Don't move again, sweetie, or your 'sister' will get hurt."

"You won't hurt her," Buffy retorted. "You need her to open the portal."

"I need some of her to open the portal," Glory said. "Not all of her." She reached down and grabbed Dawn's right hand, holding the blade now against the girl's fingers. "So stay back."

"You don't want to hurt her, Glory," the Doctor said.

"Really?" Glory asked, feigning surprise. "Could've sworn I did."

"You don't know that you don't need her whole," the Doctor continued. "Whether or not you admit it out loud, you don't know how to do it. You don't know how to recreate the Moment."

"But _you_ do," Glory said, caressing Dawn's hand. "After all, you did it the first time."

"What?" Buffy asked, staring at the Doctor. He didn't look at her. He didn't dare. He kept his eyes focused on Glory. "What is she talking about?"

"Oh, didn't he tell you?" Glory exclaimed. "Didn't he tell you _anything_?" She looked at the Doctor, smiling a serpent's smile. "He does like his dark secrets, this one."

"I don't even know if you _can_ use her to reverse the Lock," the Doctor said, trying to ignore the second conversation that had sprung up. One he didn't want to deal with. "It probably doesn't work like that."

"Oh, please. I've got a Key here and I've got a Lock I want undone. It seems pretty self-explanatory to me," Glory said breezily. "And once I figure out how she fits into it, it'll be all coming back to you now." The Doctor frowned, and Glory sighed. "Pop culture reference, hon. You were never very good at those."

"Glory, just wait. We can - "

"What? Talk about it?" Glory asked, her smile and her mocking cheer gone. "Do you want to _parley_ with me, Doctor? You have _nothing_ to offer me. So you know what? _I'm_ going to give _you_ a choice. Either you help me reopen the Lock and I will put in a good word for you to the billions who will want you dead, or you stand aside and watch me try it on my own and finally suffer the consequences of your genocide. Those are _your_ choices. I'd choose wisely."

The Doctor felt Buffy's eyes on him, and saw Dawn's blue eyes widen with something that looked like understanding. Horror, but also understanding. "Doctor?" Buffy said from behind him. "What does she mean, genocide?"

Glory shook her head. "No getting out of it this time, Doctor," she said cruelly. "Tell her what you did to us." He said nothing, staring at her out of cold eyes. She rolled her eyes. "Okay. Hey Slayer, you want to know why I'm here at all? You want to know why I've been after your sister? You want to know why all this horrible stuff has been happening to you? Ask tall, dark, and angsty over there. It's all his fault. If he hadn't destroyed my planet, none of this would have happened."

Buffy's gaze felt like ice picks in his head. "I didn't bring you here, Glory," he said. He realized that by denying only that, he was admitting to the rest of it. He couldn't do otherwise. He wouldn't lie.

"You destroyed her planet?" Buffy asked. "Is that why you're helping us? To finish what you started?" He heard her took a step away from him. "Is that what this is about?"

"No," he said firmly, looking at her, begging her to believe him. "No. That is _not_ what this is about."

"No," Glory said. "Maybe not. But it's what _this_ will be about." Keeping Dawn's hand in hers and the knife in her other, she took a step towards the Doctor. Then she stretched Dawn's arm out and laid the knife against the girl's wrist. "Help me," she said. "You want this as much as I do. You did what you did out of panic. You weren't thinking straight. You can make it right. Help me open the Lock."

"No," the Doctor said. But it was quieter than he intended.

"She's not even a real human," Glory said, jerking Dawn's arm so that the girl was wrenched against her bonds and cried out. "Just play-dough hiding the Key from me. From _us_. Because if anybody deserves to have it, it's you, Doctor."

"No one can _have_ her, Glory, she is a human being," the Doctor shouted, his fists beginning to ache from clenching. His loneliness, his guilt, burned in his chest. Burned like Gallifrey. This was insanity.

(He had a chance to change it.)

_No._ "No matter what the Order of Dagon did, she is a real human child and I will not see you hurt her. Not for anything."

"Not to get your family back?" Glory pressed. "Not for your _home_ back? Not for the guilt that you feel, that you've felt for so long, lifting as you see their faces again?"

"Stop," the Doctor said, and startled when he realized he hadn't said it alone. He looked behind him and there stood Buffy, all but forgotten, her fists clenched in a mirror image of his, her face flushed. "You can't bring me here and leave me in the dark. Tell me what she's talking about, Doctor. Explain this to me. _Now_."

The Doctor hesitated, then nodded. Yes. He would say it out loud. He would remind himself what he had done and why he had done it. And it would make sense once more. He took a step towards her, and she didn't back away. Gratitude, relief flooded him. He gripped her hands, hard, and begged, "Buffy, you have to listen to me. You have to try to understand. I - "

"He destroyed my home planet," Glory said, and the Doctor's hearts stopped. "Which just happened to be his home planet, as well. Billions of people, dead at his hands."

The look on Buffy's face could not be borne. He held her hands tightly as he felt her slip away from him. "Buffy, please, just listen, I can explain - "

"You're...like her." Buffy snatched her hands back, retreating from him. He could see the panic, the desperation in her wide eyes as she tried to make sense of it. "I don't...I..."

"Buffy, please," the Doctor pleaded, "I have never lied to you. Everything I said, I meant. I want to help you. If you'll let me, I'll help you."

"If you're from the same _planet_, what does that make _you_?" Buffy demanded, her voice rising. "Are you a hell-god, too?"

It took the Doctor aback. He stared at Buffy, and then at Glory, for once struck speechless. Glory shrugged and made a show of examining her fingernails. "When in Rome," she said lightly. "Paranormal creatures make sense in this place. Aliens...less so. So I took on a convenient persona."

"You told these people that you were a _hell-god_?" the Doctor cried. "You've really outdone yourself! And what did you tell them you were opening? A portal to hell? Not that that's such an unfair characterization." When Glory shrugged again, he shook his head slowly. "You are too cruel."

"I'm doing what I have to do to bring my home back," Glory said. "With or without your help."

"And when you bring Gallifrey back, what will happen then?" the Doctor asked. "Will they continue the Last Great Time War? Because you conveniently forgot to mention _that_. The reason that I locked you all away in the first place: you were going to destroy all of time and space for the sake of _winning_ against the Daleks. Regardless of who else died, even if that meant every single living creature in the universe who is, was, or might be."

"_I_ wasn't," Glory snapped. "As I recall, Doctor, of the two of us, _you_ were the one who was really involved in the War. Being that you ended it by destroying Gallifrey, committing genocide, and putting the entire War into a Time Lock so that it never happened. So that _we_ never happened. Grab her." The Doctor looked up and saw two of Glory's minions grab Buffy's arms and, with two additional creatures, bring her to a chair in the back of the room that they proceeded to tie her to. She was in shock, and barely resisted. The look of betrayal on her face was heart-rending.

"If you hurt her - " the Doctor began.

"This isn't about your freaking _apes_," Glory shouted. "God! Why does everything come back to these sub-people with you? What is up with your obsession? They're like fruit flies. Here one day, gone the next. I could take this blade," - she drew the blade and rested its edge against Dawn's wrist, and Dawn whimpered - "and kill her this easily. Just a slice in the right place. No regeneration, no second chance. Just _dead_, Doctor. What's a life like that worth?"

"More than you will ever, _could_ ever understand," the Doctor said slowly. "But you're not asking me to wax philosophical. So let's talk, Glory. You have my friends, you have the advantage. Tell me what you want from me. But first...tell me how you got here."

Glory chuckled under her breath, resting her left hand against the back of the chair. "No no, Doctor. _Spoilers_. You'll find out soon enough." Dawn flinched as Glory began to drum her fingers against the back of the chair in a driving rhythm. The Doctor frowned, and Glory said, "Suffice it to say that you left a couple more tiny holes in the Time Lock than you'd intended. Next question."

"How are you _staying_ here?" the Doctor asked. "I'd assumed that you were using this factory to house your biometric amplifier and an aggregator, but I don't see either one. It's a neat trick, Glory. How are you pulling it off?"

"Why, so you can unplug me?" Glory laughed. "That's not a question I'm likely to answer. Try again."

"All right," the Doctor said, walking quickly up to Glory and grabbing her diamond necklace roughly. "Then how about this one: what are you doing with five crystalline kronoferrous spheres on a chain around your neck? And as a follow up, can you give me one reason why I shouldn't crush them and send you back to the Time Lock now?"

Glory smiled her predator's smile and chuckled again, a deep, throaty sound that the Doctor could feel vibrating against the chain. "I can give you one, Doctor. Her name is Tara Maclay."

"Don't let her hurt Tara anymore, Doctor, please," he heard Dawn beg, but just faintly, as from a distance. He stared at Glory.

"There is no amplifier, no aggregator," he said quietly. "Using these spheres, _you_ are the circuit. And the people you've linked to the Vortex...they're your array. They link you physically to this planet. And in return you're burning out their minds by exposing them to the Untempered Schism."

"Lots of energy in a psionically sensitive brain," Glory replied casually. "Pretty clever, don't you think?"

"You're killing those people," the Doctor said. "You're driving them insane and in the end, you'll kill all of them."

"Please, Doctor, a couple of missing crazies will hardly be the Earth's biggest concern once I undo the Time Lock," she said. "I have a feeling that harboring _you_ is going to be their biggest concern. I'm smarter than you think I am, Doctor."

"Oh yes," he whispered, close to her ear. "Oh, you're so clever. Out-thought me, that's for sure. I would've never considered hooking my grounding mechanism up to the vulnerable brains of dozens of innocent humans. But it only takes one mistake, Glory, and you made that mistake."

"What was that?" Glory breathed, smirking.

"Letting me get this close to your dagger." He wrenched the weapon out of her hand and knocked her to the ground, standing over her with the dagger. Her minions rushed around but he dropped to one knee with the wickedly sharp point directly against Glory's throat. "One step closer and I will kill her," he said.

Beneath him, Glory started laughing. He stared at her through fevered eyes as her laughter grew and grew. "Oh, Doctor, please. Don't underestimate me. I knew that once you realized I'd outmaneuvered you, you'd try this."

"Oh, did you?" the Doctor said. "And what was your riposte?"

Glory smiled at him, blew a kiss, and changed.

A young man, a young human man, now lay under the Doctor, staring in terror at the blade pointed at his throat.

And the Doctor feared that Glory had won.


	11. Chapter 11

(Here is what happened to Dawn Summers that day.)

It was one of those moments of clarity for Dawn. You knew you'd been kidnapped too much when you start to critique their technique. Not out loud, of course - Dawn wasn't _stupid_, just accident-prone - but to herself. They weren't about the pizzazz, but they were efficient, she could say that for them. As she began to sink into numb shock while they carried her out, she was at least grateful that she could see Xander breathing as he lay in an unconscious heap where he'd been standing watch outside her room. One fewer person she had to feel too guilty about.

Although, distantly, she wondered what it mattered, because Glory had her now. Nobody was safe. Not anymore.

She didn't really fight. It wasn't like there was much of a point to it. Whatever she was...whatever combination of things she was, none of them was super-strong. And she didn't know what the creatures that had kidnapped her were, but she knew that Glory wouldn't send just anyone to capture her prize.

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked, her voice dull. One of her captors shook his head.

"Her Most High Eminence will decide what is to be done with you," the minion said. "We are not to harm you."

Dawn nodded. "Okay," she said quietly.

The city seemed so weird. Being kidnapped during the day was a new one for her, and the act of walking with her captors in the daylight felt _wrong_. The blush of sunrise had just left the edges of the sky, and to be honest this wasn't a time of day that Dawn was super familiar with, but it was pretty. It was going to be a really pretty day, where Sunnydale lived up to its name. She closed her eyes, trusting Glory's minions to lead her, and felt the warming morning air caress her face, as if to say things would be okay. The world couldn't end on a beautiful day like this.

And it wouldn't, because Dawn wouldn't let it.

She really hoped that Buffy wouldn't come after her, but she knew that her sister would. The fact that they were hurrying her to Glory told her that Buffy was already on her way. She knew that her sister hadn't been in the house when she was taken. But maybe they'd find the wrong place. Maybe they wouldn't be there.

Maybe Buffy wouldn't have to see Dawn kill herself.

Because she was going to, if she had to. She'd realized it last night, after Buffy had left. It wasn't that she'd come to terms with being the Key, or had some kind of epiphany. It was how the Doctor had looked at her, like she was some kind of deadly weapon. And she was, she knew it. She was a ticking time bomb. And she was going to make sure she hurt as few people as possible when she went off.

She knew that Glory wouldn't be able to suppress the urge to monologue once she finally had Dawn in her clutches. No Big Bad could resist the monologue. She'd spill the beans about whatever ritual it was going to take to use her to open the portal, and Dawn was a pretty smart kid. She'd be able to figure out what it was that Glory had to do to open it, and just make sure it didn't happen. It was living blood, probably. And that was why Dawn had slept with a dagger in her shoe. (It was really, really uncomfortable to walk on, but she was proud of herself for not even limping.) She wouldn't let Glory make a weapon out of her. She wouldn't.

The warehouse was starker than she had expected, but she wasn't really sure what she should have been expecting. Something fancier, but Glory probably wouldn't want to get blood all over her nice carpets. That thought forced a small smile out of Dawn, perversely. Gallows humor.

"Glad to see you smiling, Dawnie." Dawn looked up, and there stood Glory, looking like the devil wearing Prada. She walked up to Dawn and put her hands on Dawn's face. Dawn stiffened at her touch, suddenly afraid that Glory would brain-suck her before she had a chance to kill herself. Glory made a shushing noise. "Calm down, baby doll. I'm not gonna do anything to you."

"I doubt that," Dawn said. She was shocked by how calm she was.

Glory laughed and put her arm around Dawn's shoulders, guiding her around corners into another room. "Well, I'm going to do _something_ to you. But all I want to do is release your potential, honey. Get you out of this meat-bag that's doing nothing but holding you back. Together, me and you, we're gonna rock this world."

Dawn said nothing, passively allowing herself to be led into the room that she knew was a trap for Buffy and the Doctor. Hopefully she'd get a chance to finish it before they showed up.

"You'll have to forgive the melodrama," Glory said lightly as she released Dawn into the hands of two of her minions, who guided her into a chair and proceeded to bind her. Not too tightly, not painfully. A show. A centerpiece for whatever showdown she was planning to have. "But I have to make this look good for your darling sister and the good Doctor."

"And then what?" asked Dawn quickly. Glory gave her an odd look, and she reined it in. "I-I mean, at least let me know what to expect."

Glory walked over to her, crouched by her knees. She stroked Dawn's arm with her smooth, cool hand. Dawn shivered. "Don't worry, sweetie," she said. "It'll be over before you know it."

Dawn was about to press for more information when they all heard the big doors open. Dawn's heart sank to her feet. It was too early. She hadn't had enough time. She only needed a few more minutes -

But she was out of time. Glory smiled widely and patted Dawn on the shoulder. "I'll be right back, sweetie," she said, "with our guests. Sit tight!"

Dawn could do nothing but watch as Glory led Buffy and the Doctor back into the room where she was tied, standing behind her like some kind of sick Vanna White. Nothing but watch as Buffy cried out, wrestled with the Doctor to come to her, to come save her, like always. But this time she couldn't. Glory wouldn't let her, as she proved by laying a slender dagger against her chest. Dawn mouthed _I'm sorry_, and Buffy's desperate eyes told her to hang on, to just wait. That she would make it all right.

Dawn wished she could believe her. But they'd had one hope, and that was Dawn managing to do one thing right. And she couldn't.

"...finally suffer the consequences of your genocide. Those are _your_ choices. I'd choose wisely," said Glory, as Dawn began to pay attention to their conversation again. She saw the look of horror on Buffy's face, uncomprehending horror, and she felt it, too. But she understood. She'd seen him do it. But the new piece...that Glory was one of his people...that was a shock. She watched as Buffy withdrew from the Doctor, as her sister became completely alone, and she wanted to cry out that she didn't understand, that he wasn't what she thought he was, what Glory said he was.

When they took Buffy away, she started to despair. Her sister looked so dead. Like Dawn, she barely struggled. Dawn began to tune out as Glory kept using her as a prop, alternately threatening the Doctor with her harm or promising him a share in what Dawn could bring them. She tried to detach from the situation, pretend it was another nightmare that the Doctor brought her, something that had already happened to her. Something she was watching from the safety of her warm bed, kept watch over by her friends. Her family. Who she would never see again.

Suddenly Glory and the Doctor were gone from behind her, and the Doctor knelt over Glory to her right, her dagger in his hand and at her throat. She could just barely see his eyes, but she saw the bright panic, the horror at what he was about to do, the horror at what would happen if he did not. And then, as she thought he was going to drive the blade into Glory's neck, something even weirder happened.

Glory disappeared, replaced by Ben. No. Glory _turned into_ Ben. Trembling under the dagger in the Doctor's hand, a baffled expression on his face. And the Doctor stared at him.

"Ben is Glory's prison," Dawn said quietly, finally speaking as the pieces fell together in her mind. The Doctor turned to stare at her, then back to Ben. "I don't think he remembers what happens when he's...her."

The Doctor pulled the dagger back from Ben's throat, trembling as well. Ben exhaled heavily in relief. He didn't release the dagger, but he put his other hand on Ben's face, the tips of his fingers reaching Ben's temples. He closed his eyes, and Ben did, too. The Doctor began to laugh. "Oh, you clever girl," he said quietly. "I should have known better than to think it would be easy. A human shield, in the most literal sense." He took his hand away, and Ben watched him out of wide, wary eyes as he rose. The Doctor looked down at him sadly. "Another innocent."

They stayed like that for a moment, the Doctor standing over Ben's shaking form, the gleaming dagger in his hand, a decision being made in his eyes. Dawn couldn't help it. "Doctor, there's got to be another way. Can't you just...get Glory out of him? The necklace, maybe you could do something with the necklace?"

The Doctor turned his eyes to her, and shook his head sadly. "No, Dawn. I wish so much that I could. But he's not strong enough to survive without her, without the energy she's collecting from all the people she's infected. If I take her out, he'll die."

"She promised me she'd let me go once she'd opened the portal." Ben's voice was disbelieving, and the Doctor and Dawn both turned to him. His face betrayed his fear, his shock. "She said she'd make me immortal."

The Doctor passed a hand over his eyes. "I'm so sorry. She can't. Even if you could survive the separation, she doesn't have the power to make you immortal." He hesitated. "Well, I say she doesn't. She doesn't have the _knowledge_."

Ben looked away, sitting up and clenching his shaking hands together. He took several deep breaths, and without looking at them, whispered, "I don't want to die."

The Doctor looked like he was trying to find something to say, trying to formulate the right words, but the tension in his body just rose and rose until he finally turned away from both Ben and Dawn, releasing a cry and kicking an empty plastic barrel out of the room and down the hallway. He leaned against the wall with his fists clenched, placing his head against it and whispering to himself. Dawn was afraid he'd just lost it. And with Buffy tied up and the Doctor nuts, they were screwed.

But then she started to be able to make out his words. "...so tired," he was saying. "I can't be responsible for another one. Not by my hand. Not again. Please, not this time. _Please_."

Fixated on the Doctor, Dawn almost screamed when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Buffy put her hand quickly over Dawn's mouth, bending down and pulling a dagger out of her own boot. Dawn had to smile. Guess it ran in the family. "He can't do it," Dawn whispered. Buffy nodded.

"Doctor," Buffy said, and the minions seemed to realize that she had gotten out of her bonds. They rushed at her, but she brandished the dagger. "I will stab all of you so full of holes that the cause of death will be recorded as swiss cheese-ification," she threatened, and something in her tone convinced them to back up. Wielding the dagger, she backed up until she was close to the Doctor. She didn't look at him. "I don't know what happened with you and Glory and your planet and that War or whatever, and I have to say I don't really care. But either you kill Glory, or I will."

"You can't," the Doctor said. "He's human. I know who you are, and you don't kill humans."

"I will if it stops Glory," Buffy argued. "So you stab him or I will."

"You don't mean that," said the Doctor. "Buffy, stop and think. An innocent life - "

"_You_ said that they were gonna end all of time and space," Buffy cried. "_You_ told me that. And now you're telling me that one person's life isn't an acceptable price to pay for avoiding that? Hell, if it was my life, I'd say do it."

"Do it."

Buffy, the Doctor, and Dawn all turned and stared at Ben, who was standing. His stoic face was at odds with the red dress that Glory had been wearing, but Dawn couldn't find it in her to be amused. "Kill me. I know what she's planning. I can...I understand some of it. And if I'm going to die anyway, then I might as well die for a reason."

The Doctor said nothing, but nodded. He gripped the dagger as though he was afraid it would slip - did Time Lords get sweaty palms? Dawn wondered absently - and took a step towards Ben.

Who started to scream.

"Now! Hurry!" Buffy cried, and the Doctor ran at Ben, knocking him to the ground. He raised the dagger high -

And his arm was gripped by a finely-manicured hand. "God, I just can't stand a martyr," Glory said. She stood, pushing the Doctor up with her. "Grab the Slayer and the Doctor. If he won't help me, then I'll just do it on my own."

Her minions did as they were told, and disarmed both Buffy and the Doctor before grabbing them and forcing them to their knees. Glory then walked over to Dawn, who looked up at her fearfully. This was it. "I don't have more time to waste," Glory said, untying Dawn and dragging her up by the arm. Dawn cried out as her shoulder wrenched. Ignoring her, Glory turned a poisonous smile to the Doctor.

"But time is about to be something I won't ever have to worry about again, isn't it?"


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's note. Thanks for your patience; this chapter just did not want to be written! And apologies in advance for the cliff-hanger, but I wanted to get something up as quickly as possible. Your reviews are all very much appreciated and I hope everyone continues to enjoy the story._

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><p>This wasn't the time to panic.<p>

Well, maybe it was the time to panic. After all, there had hardly been a more deserving time in recent memory. But he couldn't _afford_ to panic; that was more precise. He needed all of his faculties if he was going to avert the end of the universe from here, on his knees, watching a member of his dead race about to slaughter an innocent girl.

Hours had passed while Glory trussed Dawn up for the sacrifice - _sacrifice_. Such an archaic and ugly word for such a technical procedure as using the Great Key of Rassilon to open the Time Lock that ended the War. Re-creating the Moment. It all seemed so scientific the first time; why was it so medieval this time? Glory had dressed Dawn in a recreation thirteenth-century dress, and the girl looked so lost in it. She hadn't looked at him in a while, and he understood why. She felt like he'd failed her. Maybe he had. But he hadn't given up on himself yet.

He turned his head and saw Buffy. Her head was hanging in defeat, her green eyes downcast and dull. She'd barely moved since they'd been recaptured, and the Doctor knew she was in shock. She'd have to snap out of it. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself indulge in just a moment of grief for her. But he couldn't linger long in it. After all, while he was planless, they were in a less-than-ideal situation. So he had to -

_Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor_

He looked up suddenly, startled by the vehement presence in his mind. _Tara? Tara Maclay_? he responded.

_Oh m-my god. It's so quiet in here._ He felt her bask in the silence, in the stillness. She must have, in turn, felt his impatience, because she shook herself out of it. _I'm sorry. I didn't know I could do this_.

The Doctor thought of Reinette. _A door, once opened, may be stepped through in either direction_, he remembered, and he felt Tara understand. But she didn't understand all of it. A smile blossomed on his face, which he quickly erased before anyone could notice. Oh, yes. Oh, yes, he was clever.

_O-okay. I have so many things I want to say, to ask. But...are you still with Buffy? Are you with Dawn?_

_With both of them, and Glory. She's about to try to open the portal, and Buffy and I are...indisposed. Assistance would not be taken amiss._

There was a pause. Tara was filling the others in. He hoped she was as coherent out loud as she was in his mind, but he knew she wouldn't be. She'd try, but outside of this connection, outside of a proper channel to the Vortex, things would get muddled for her. _Did they understand?_ he asked, when she returned.

_I-I think so. Where are you?_

_The warehouse I showed Giles. But we can't fight her here. Not enough space._

_Can you lure her outside? We can meet you._

The Doctor hesitated. _Yes. I can. Where?_

_Just outside. We'll meet you there._

_All right. Oh, and Tara?_

_Y-yes?_

The Doctor barely suppressed a smile. _You are brilliant._

He could feel her blush, before she cut the connection.

"Any bright ideas?" Buffy muttered at his side. He turned to look at her, but her eyes were focused ahead of her, on her sister. He felt a surge of hope that she was back with him.

"Something extremely clever is about to occur to me," the Doctor promised. "Any minute now."

"Well, we don't have many minutes," Buffy hissed. "She's going to open the portal, and once she does, it's over."

"Right," the Doctor said. "So I think we need to fast forward a tick." He beamed for a moment. "See? I get cultural references. Oi! Glory!"

Glory turned slowly to him, still holding Dawn's arm. "What could you _possibly_ have to say to me right now, Doctor?" she asked, her voice filled with venom. "Are you ready to start begging for your miserable life?"

"Well, see, 's not my style precisely, but I figured that as long as I'm out of options, I might as well give you a pointer," said the Doctor genially. "Because if you cut the girl here then all you'll end up with is a mess to clean up."

Glory stilled, watching him. Buffy hissed, "What are you _doing_?", but the Doctor ignored her, keeping his eyes straight on Glory.

"What do you mean?" Glory asked.

"I mean that the Key has to be positioned at a temporally fragile nexus to make any difference," the Doctor explained. "If you try to use her here, it won't do you any good. And there are only two places in this town that fit the bill."

"And those are?" Glory glared at him, but he knew that she was listening.

"Well, of course, the first is what the locals call the Hellmouth. But that's not the best choice. Too much unfiltered Silverberg energy and potential energy and just other general messiness. Not the place to do delicate operations like re-creating the Moment."

He stopped, and Glory waited, riveted. When he didn't continue, she let out a frustrated cry. "I don't have time for this! What is the other place?"

The Doctor grinned. "Right outside."

Glory paused, then gave the Doctor a look of disdain. "Oh, outside? You mean where I built my sacrificial altar?"

"Sacrificial - " The Doctor looked at Buffy. "Could've mentioned that stuff wasn't always there," he mumbled. Buffy shrugged helplessly. The Doctor turned back to Glory, pasting a cheerful expression back on his face. "Brilliant! Already got the memo. Should've known you'd've felt the fragility of the nexus."

"Even these neanderthals knew that the sacrifice had to be made at the right place," Glory said, disgusted. "Get them to their feet. They get to watch."

Her minions shoved the Doctor and Buffy standing, and forced them outside. The Doctor saw Buffy bite her lip, and nudged her with his elbow before Glory's creatures could stop him. She looked up, and he winked. _Trust me_.

The severe expression on her face didn't falter, but she nodded, just once.

Night had fallen outside, and it took the Doctor's eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. He blinked a few times, and then looked carefully at the scaffolding ahead of him.

Glory had done well: someone pushed or walked off of the platform would fall exactly through the almost imperceptible rupture in space/time. Not even rupture. It was merely an instability, a flicker of weakness in the boundaries that separated that which _was_ from that which _could be_. Put almost anything through it and nothing would happen. But put any part of _Dawn_ through it...

It wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to let it happen.

He was going to do...

...something. As long as his reinforcements showed up, that was.

Dawn turned her head around and caught his eyes, finally. She looked so scared. He tried to look reassuring, but she wasn't buying it. The hope he had was still contingent on things that hadn't happened yet, but wasn't that always the case with him? He wished he could tell Dawn that he had a plan.

Because he did have a plan. It was that his plan was...unsavory. He'd prefer another way. But his hands were tied. And he had this feeling, this sick feeling, that something was about to happen that was out of his control. And he didn't like it, not at all.

Buffy's friends were on their way, but the best he could hope from them would be to cause a distraction, and to keep Glory's minions occupied. Maybe that was all he'd need, though. He felt the comforting weight of his sonic screwdriver in his pocket. Luckily, they hadn't thought to frisk him. Luckily, Glory was enough on edge that she was sloppy enough to forget it. And luckily, he hadn't had cause to use it yet, not in front of her. He took a deep breath.

"Glory." She turned and looked at him, her brows contacted in irritation. "I want you to listen to me. I want you to think, very carefully, about what you're doing."

"About what? Bringing our people back from oblivion?" snapped Glory. "I've thought about it, Doctor. It sounds like a good idea to me."

"The War will start again, Glory, and they will destroy everything in the universe," the Doctor insisted. "What good is it to bring us back if it only leads to the end of all life?"

"We were fighting the Daleks," Glory argued. "They would have done the same. It wasn't ideal but they had to be stopped. But you saw to that, didn't you?" She smirked and turned to Dawn, brushing the girl's hair out of her eyes. "So no Daleks, no War."

The Doctor hesitated. If his plan didn't work, if he wasn't able to get to her in time, then this piece of information could be disastrous. But he needed to buy time. He closed his eyes, and told her. "The Daleks aren't gone, Glory."

Glory stiffened, then slowly turned around to face him. "What did you say?"

"I said that the Daleks aren't gone. Some of them survived," the Doctor said. "I've had to face them. If you bring the Time Lords back the War _will_ start again."

"If the Daleks survived then we _need_ to return," Glory shot back. "We can't let them roam free. How did they survive? How did _they_ escape when we have been locked away so tight?"

"I-I don't know," the Doctor confessed. "But I am not letting them _roam free_. I'm taking care of them. But listen to me, Glory. You know what the High Council will do if they discover that some of the Daleks survived. It will be war once more, and nothing will survive."

Glory paused, and for a moment the Doctor's hearts lifted. Maybe he'd gotten through to her. Maybe none of the awful things he'd imagined would have to come to pass. Maybe, today, everybody would live.

But it all came crashing down when she said, "The Time Lords will survive, Doctor. And ultimately, that is what matters." She grabbed Dawn's wrist and dragged her towards the scaffold. Buffy started to struggle against her captors, and the Doctor knew that she could get away. He turned quickly to her.

"She'll kill you," he hissed.

"She'll kill us anyway," Buffy spat back.

"I _need_ you," the Doctor insisted. "Give me just a few minutes. Please. Five." Buffy glared at him, but settled down. Her glare turned to a stare of confusion as the Doctor continued, with a wide grin: "Four, three, two, one."

Xander's whooping war cry came first, and everyone in the court yard turned. Buffy's face lit up at the sight of her friends, and the Doctor smiled to see it. They rushed in, and Glory cried out, "Stop them!"

Just as the Doctor had bargained on, her minions weren't overly intelligent. Prioritizing was not a strength for them, but following orders consecutively...that, they could do. So he felt the hands on his arms release, and wasted no time in grabbing his screwdriver out of his pocket and sprinting after Glory. He heard Buffy's feet behind him as she followed.

Glory was already on the top of the platform before the Doctor started climbing. "Stop!" she screamed. "I'll kill her!"

"You won't kill her, Glory," the Doctor said, but he said it cautiously, slowing down while not stopping. "You need her alive. Now relax. Step away from her."

"I won't let you stop me," Glory cried. She gripped her dagger like a life-line, her hand shaking. She jerked Dawn's arm in front of her, eliciting a cry from the girl, and held the dagger over it. "I'm bringing them back, Doctor, and you can't do anything about it!"

The Doctor climbed onto the platform, holding his sonic screwdriver out in front of him. He regarded Glory with sad eyes. "I'm sorry, Glory. Please, _please_ believe me. I am so sorry. I wish that it hadn't been necessary."

"_Traitor_," she hissed. "You ran like you always do. You put it all behind you. Ran away in your stolen TARDIS and left us to suffer the consequences."

"I couldn't let us do it," the Doctor said. He wasn't sure who he was explaining himself to. Glory? Himself? Buffy, or Dawn? "We had no right. Too many had died already. Now let the girl go. No one else has to die."

Glory laughed, and the Doctor could hear that she was starting to unravel. "Nobody but poor little Ben, right, Doctor?" Glory giggled. "Nobody but my poor little meat prison."

The Doctor's face clouded. "You left me no choice," he said quietly. "If I could save him you know I would try. But whatever lies you chose to tell him, he can't survive without you. And I can't let you destroy the universe, not even to save his life."

Glory watched him warily as he approached her, slowly, so that she didn't get startled. "What are you going to do, Doctor?" she asked. "You don't have any weapons."

The Doctor smiled. "No, I don't," he admitted. "Totally harmless, that's me. But you...you've rigged yourself up nicely." He arrived in front of her, and gazed at her necklace. She followed his line of vision, and then looked back up at him, confused. He met her eyes. "You've opened yourself up to dozens of psionically powerful humans' minds," he said. "And Glory, you've forgotten. A door, once opened, may be stepped through in either direction."

He pointed the screwdriver at the largest stone, and depressed the button.


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's note. Another chapter that struggled to be written. This is close to the end. There will be an epilogue, but this is the last chapter in the story arc. I hope everyone's enjoyed the story and is relatively satisfied..._

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><p>Glory's shrieks, however well-deserved they might be, were terrible to hear.<p>

"What are you doing to her?" Buffy shouted over the noise, running to Dawn and holding her. Dawn gripped Buffy like she would never let go again.

"Reversing the feed on her kronoferrous spheres," the Doctor shouted in reply. "She was channeling her fix on the Vortex out to all of the people like Tara, using them to stabilize her in this dimension. Like stakes holding down a tent. But now she's on the receiving end of all of their psionic energy, and it's battering her mind. She won't stay here much longer, not in the kind of pain she's in."

"Oh, my god," Buffy breathed, her eyes lighting up in hope, but the Doctor shook his head. Now was not the time to get too cocky. As he'd told her before, the fat lady had not yet sung. He peered over the scaffolding, down at Buffy's friends below.

The fighting had ceased, and many of Glory's minions had dropped to their knees, confused and disoriented. Many of them laid trembling fingers on their heads, as though asking where the Vortex had gone. One or two seemed to be weeping. Buffy's friends were tending to them, explaining what was happening around them, and (the Doctor noted with relief) disarming them.

"All right," he said, jumping up and rubbing his hands together. "Still a bit of a tetchy spot, so Buffy, I want you to bring Dawn down and get her somewhere safe until I tell you different. While Glory is still in this reality we're not out of the woods. So get her out of here and I will give you the all-clear."

Buffy nodded, and asked, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see to it that my old friend gets home safely," replied the Doctor. He tried to keep the ache out of his voice, and he was moderately sure he'd managed it. "And I need to fix the instability that Glory was going to use to create the portal."

"Do you need help?" Dawn asked, and the Doctor smiled fondly at her. After all she'd been through, her first thought was to help. Just like her sister.

"_You_ can help by getting somewhere safe," he said. "Now hurry. We haven't got any time to waste."

"Why?" Dawn asked, and the Doctor took a breath to answer her.

"Because I'm not dead yet," Glory ground out, and everyone froze. The Doctor stared, disbelieving, at her. She shouldn't be able to speak. The agony should be unbearable. The eyes that met his were fevered, and the smile was...to call it a smile was unfair. It was a rictus grin. She kept flinching and raising her hands tremulously to her head, as though resisting the urge to try to scratch the other minds out of it. "Once I op...op..._en_ the portal, I won't need this..._body_ any..._more_." Her whole body quaking, she dropped to her hands and knees. Looking for her dagger, no doubt, but it had fallen from the platform when he'd reversed the feed. She'd flung it from herself. The Doctor frowned. Then, when he realized where she was going, his eyes flew wide open.

"Buffy, take Dawn down!" he cried, but not before Glory grabbed Dawn's shoe. Instead of grabbing the girl like he thought she would, though, Glory tore Dawn's shoe off of her foot, shook something into her hand.

And came up with a knife.

The Doctor stared at it in horror, then at Dawn, whose eyes were wide and glassy. She couldn't look away from the knife, gleaming in the industrial lighting of the warehouse district, deadly in more ways than one. Why had the girl had that in her shoe? What could she have - no. No time for that.

He rushed for Glory, but she side-stepped him and grabbed Dawn's arm. Dawn screamed, and Buffy held her tight, but Dawn couldn't get out of the way before Glory managed to take the knife and run it along the length of the girl's finger.

Time stopped.

(What an unfortunate turn of phrase.)

The Doctor watched, helpless, as Glory drew her hand along the girl's finger, the bright, jewel-like blood smearing over her palm. And her eyes were directly on the Doctor's as a smile, a staticky, fractured smile past her pain, flickered on her face. She released Dawn, displaying her bloodied palm to the Doctor, and took a stumbling step backwards. Buffy pulled Dawn close to her, a look of confused half-relief on her face as she looked from the Doctor to Glory and back, trying to process what was happening.

Glory continued to stumble backwards. The Doctor felt frozen, and only ran forward in time to see Glory mouth:

_See you._

And she pitched herself off of the platform.

He probably screamed something. Probably _no_. But as he lay on his stomach on the platform, reaching vainly for Glory's hand, it was like everything else in the world - sound, touch, peripheral vision - was gone. All he could see was the tiny gap, the inches that lay between the tips of her fingers and the tips of his, that lay between salvation and destruction. And her smile as she closed her eyes, laying back and passing her hand, her blood-stained hand, through the instability.

The Doctor shielded his eyes as the instability wavered, then began to shake, and then exploded into being. He staggered back, staring at the portal through horrified eyes. "Get back," he said, then turned to Buffy and Dawn. "Get back!" he shouted, raising his arms as though he could protect them from anything that was to come out of that portal.

Buffy began to pull Dawn away, but Dawn resisted. "B-but it's open now," Dawn stammered. "We have to close it!"

"We can't, not with anything we have here," the Doctor said. He ran his hands through his hair. No, no, no. They were _so close_. He should have been able to stop this. He should have kept her farther away from Dawn. But how could he know that there was another weapon?

(_Weapons_. If he were ever to indulge in an abuse of his powers as a time traveler, it would be to make sure that weapons were _never invented_. Nothing but trouble, at any point in time, at any place he'd ever visited.)

And now there was nothing to be done. At least, not without the TARDIS. And even _with_ the TARDIS, which he didn't have time to get to, he wasn't sure he could do anything. His mind was whirring, flipping through possibilities and recalling algorithms and attempting to put everything together so that the sum total did _not_ equal the end of the universe. But there wasn't a way. Not that he could think of, with all of his power, with all of his knowledge.

He couldn't think of anything.

"It's me," Dawn said, and he looked up at her. She was staring at her cut finger, holding it before her eyes like she didn't know what it was. Like it was suddenly not a part of her. "It's my blood. My blood opened the portal. I can close it."

"No!" the Doctor and Buffy said at the same time. Buffy held her sister. "I will _not_ let you die, not now," she said. "There's another way."

"There's _not_," Dawn cried. "It's my blood. I'm the Key. I'm the only one who can stop this. You can't do anything, Buffy. I'm sorry."

Buffy shook her head, frantically, pressing Dawn to her. "Doctor, please. There has to be another way. You have to think of something. There's always another...way..."

And then the threads pulled together.

And then the future made sense.

And the Doctor stared at Buffy, who felt his eyes on her and looked back. She inhaled sharply, understanding. Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded.

"No," the Doctor said, uselessly.

"You're right," Buffy said. She released Dawn, who stared at her.

"Right about what?" Dawn said.

"_You're_ right, Dawnie. Your blood is the only thing that can close the portal. But your blood is made out of my blood." Buffy didn't look at Dawn, but placed herself between Dawn and the end of the scaffolding.

Dawn began to shake her head, then looked to the Doctor in desperation. "No, no, please, there's got to be another way," she whispered. She suddenly looked very young, her long gown pooling around her feet like a child's dress-up garment.

The Doctor shook his head, half in disagreement and half in disbelief. "This is...I don't know how I didn't see it before. I'm so sorry. This is a fixed point in time. There is nothing I can do to prevent it, nothing anyone could have ever done. In no potentiality do you survive this." He met Buffy's eyes, and she nodded again. Even forced half of a smile.

Buffy walked up to Dawn, and the Doctor could see the tears shining in her eyes. She put her hands on her younger sister's shoulders and gave her a smile. "You have to take care of them for me now," Buffy said.

"No," wept Dawn. "No, _you_ have to take care of them."

"Dawnie. Listen to me. You heard the Doctor: there's nothing anybody can do about this. You have to be strong for me. Listen!" Dawn took a deep, shuddering breath, and quieted. Buffy leaned her forehead against Dawn's. The Doctor stepped away. There was nothing he could do to save Buffy, but he had no right to intrude on their good-bye.

He walked to the edge of the scaffold and took out his sonic screwdriver, scanning the portal. It was almost completely open. Any minute now, the invasion would begin. They would return and it would all be over; everything he'd fought and sacrificed for would be lost. And now, to prevent that from happening, one more innocent person had to die.

_Had_ to die.

He gripped the screwdriver so hard his palm hurt, and he shoved it back into his pocket before he could break it. It wasn't right. It wasn't just. She shouldn't have to die. But she was right: there was no other way to close the portal. It was either Dawn or Buffy, and there was no path on which it was not Buffy. Sometimes, there was nothing to be done. Even for him, sometimes there was no alternative.

"The hardest thing in this world is to live in it." He turned at Buffy's voice, taken aback. He watched her kiss her sister and leave her, weeping, at the edge of the stairs. She walked up to him and in her he saw such strength, such calm. Her tears had fallen onto her cheeks, but there were none in her eyes to replace them. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She approached him and took his hand. "Take care of her," she said, and her voice was firm and steady. "Make sure no one else uses her like this again."

"I will," the Doctor promised, and was surprised to realize he meant it. With every fiber of his being, he meant it. "I'll keep her safe."

Buffy nodded her thanks, and released his hand. She turned and he saw the portal reflected in her eyes. He backed away from her without looking away, crouching finally next to Dawn, holding her as she wept.

Buffy looked their way, smiled one last time at Dawn.

She turned and began to run.

And she jumped.

And she was the only thing that there was as she dove into the portal, graceful as an Olympian, and the portal closed around her. As she single-handedly saved the universe from another Time War.

The Doctor sat on the platform, numb, holding Dawn as Buffy's friends realized what had happened. He knew that Giles was climbing up the scaffolding, but he couldn't bring himself to turn around.

Giles arrived on the platform and wordlessly stood by Dawn. "Fixed point in time," the Doctor murmured. "Nothing I could have done. Nothing anyone could have done. She has always sacrificed herself to save everyone."

Giles said nothing, but sat down next to Dawn, holding her. The Doctor let her go, and she clung to the older man, sobbing. Giles looked up at the Doctor. "She did," he said quietly.

The three of them sat on the platform in silence, watching the place where the portal had been.


	14. Epilogue

_Epilogue._

The Doctor stood outside of the Summers' door. Well. Dawn's door. He'd knocked a few moments ago, but didn't knock again. She'd heard him. She knew he was here, and she'd open the door when she was ready.

He hadn't waited long when he heard her bare feet on the floor inside, and the multitude of locks coming undone. The door creaked open, and there she stood.

She looked so normal. A black tee shirt and blue jeans, bare feet, her hair hanging loose. Her eyes were barely red. She looked up at him, and smiled, just a tug at the corner of her mouth. "I didn't know if you were going to come back," she whispered.

"I made a promise," the Doctor said. "'Course I came back."

They watched each other for a moment, and then the Doctor spread his arms as wide as his grin, and Dawn ran forward and hugged him tight. She almost knocked him over in her enthusiasm, and he couldn't help but laugh. His laughter trailed off when she buried her face in his jacket, a little too much like hiding "I was worried," Dawn whispered into his chest.

The Doctor stilled. "How long has it been?" he asked.

"Two months," said Dawn. The Doctor closed his eyes and held her tighter.

"Ah. Got to recalibrate that..." - he made a hammering gesture with his fist behind her shoulder - "...thing."

Dawn laughed, and stepped away from him. "Come on in," she said, taking him by the hand and leading him inside. She shut the door behind them. "Everybody's at the Magic Box right now, but I'm sure they'll be happy to see you when they come back." She wasn't facing him, so he indulged in a face that indicated how little he believed that. Dawn stopped and turned to look at him, and he quickly replaced that expression with an open one. "You can stay for a little bit, right?"

The Doctor smiled gently, and nodded. "Couldn't get rid of me if you wanted to," he said, and Dawn looked relieved.

He followed her into the living room. There was still a heaviness in the house, the weight of grief pressing in. Two months. He hadn't meant to be gone that long. But perhaps it was for the best. It gave Dawn some time to heal without him, and he knew that he would only be a reminder of what she'd lost. She needed her family...the family she was left with. She didn't need the Doctor. Not then.

"So what've you been up to?" Dawn asked in a charmingly prosaic way. Like they were just schoolmates catching up after the summer.

"Oh, well, you know, travelling," the Doctor replied, matching her tone. "Trying to make myself useful."

Dawn grinned. "I can't imagine that's hard for you," she said, and laughed. The Doctor smiled with her, but she sobered quickly. "So I guess we need to talk."

The Doctor studied her for a moment: her upright posture, her resigned tone, her calm expression. As though she'd become an adult while he was away. He nodded. "There is a lot to talk about," he replied.

Almost as if to belie his last thought, Dawn tucked her feet under her legs and curled into herself a bit. "What do I have to do?" she asked quietly. "To make sure...that...never happens again?"

"It was not your fault," said the Doctor, his voice firm.

"That's not what I asked," Dawn replied. "I know what I am, Doctor. You showed me what I am. What I was. I can't let myself keep putting people in danger. People I love...not anyone else."

The Doctor said nothing, and Dawn smiled sadly. "It's bad, right? Whatever I have to do to make sure I don't hurt anybody again. That's okay. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Dawn, no. It's not that," the Doctor began, but Dawn put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay," she said. "I'm not scared. Not anymore."

The Doctor put his hand over hers and lifted it from his shoulder, taking it between his. He shook his head wonderingly. "I know you're not," he replied. "And it's as amazing as everything you do. But that's not the answer. When we first met, I told you I hadn't come to hurt you. I still haven't."

Dawn frowned. "I don't want you to be soft about this because of me," she said severely. "I'm not worth the destruction of...everything, everytime, every-whatever."

The Doctor shook his head. "You are just like your sister," he said fondly. "But violence isn't always the answer. You said you know what you are, Dawn. What are you?"

Dawn hesitated. "The Key," she finally answered.

"Which Key?"

"The Great Key of Rassilon."

"And if you were to choose a metaphor to describe your Key-self, what would it be?" asked the Doctor.

Dawn barely hesitated. "A ticking bomb," she replied.

"Yes, precisely," said the Doctor enthusiastically. "And what do you do with a bomb, Dawn? Do you blow it up?"

"No, you defuse it," Dawn said slowly. She looked quickly at the Doctor. "What are you saying?"

The Doctor stood up, holding his hand out to Dawn. "Dawn Summers, if you let me, I will help you become a real girl," he said.

She hesitated for a moment.

But only a moment.

And then she took his hand.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note. The story is asking for a sequel. I have another story I need to get out first, and I need to give this one time to germinate, but I believe there will be a sequel. Thank you all for reading and for your encouraging reviews!<em>


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